


The Things We Never Said

by Aurastorm



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, and the plot thickens, and then they were roomates, but like on a deserted planet, catradora, magicatra, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24519526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurastorm/pseuds/Aurastorm
Summary: The war has gone on for countless years, Catra leads the remainder of the Etherian Horde, Adora remains an asset to the Rebellion, and Horde Prime looms over them as ever.But when a mission goes wrong, Adora and Catra must face one another and the past they left behind in unspoken words.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 183





	1. From the Sand

The sand was coarse and it hit on impact. Had it not been for She-ra, Adora would have probably not gotten up from that fight.

A horde ship. Over an empty, war devastated planet. She-ra doing what She-ra does. She had been fighting Catra. She remembers that. Hitting the dirt hard enough to knock the tiara off her head, lose the sword and her sense of direction. This was a chaos. Debris rained. The night. It was night? The sky was alight with fiery pieces, falling like some damned deadly wishing stars.

For a second, she lets herself kneel in the sand breathing heavily, allowing her injuries to burn for a second as she watches the destruction She-ra left behind. She wonders how many of her friends from the Horde remain. How many she had inadvertently killed under the guise of uniforms and casualties. Maybe her brain is just rattled. Yes, it’s that. She needs to find her sword. Then find how to phone Glimmer -- no, no, then find some shelter. Shelter first then sword? No , sword first. She has already started moving before even noticing. The rebellion soldier was already making her way across the wreckage, the mess she made. Now and again, Adora stops to fish out some scrap or supply that survived. Some clothes, seemingly armor pieces. A gun. Scrap that could help hold her over till someone came to pick her up. With all this rubbish and desolation, she kept thinking of Catra. There was no way …

She finds the sword, wedged between two pieces of metal that were stuffed with ration bars, and after some struggle gets the key to Eterea back onto its sheath. That’s one worry off her mind, and all while also getting a box of rations! She sticks around and finds some other miscellaneous supplies: backpacks, some radios, basic first aid kits…. it's enough to feel much better in her situation. It’ll be safe to roam now with most of what she will need for a few days. 

She kicks a few burnt badges. Right. When Hordak Prime came down, everything split. It had been years now. The Horde became its own rebellious faction, Prime a tentatively common enemy. The princess rebellion still stood. She-ra still stood. And yet in the years of combat, few things made her count the days or months in conflict. Etheria was a divided territory, and Adora had come to the conclusion it’d always be that way. The light of hope had faded, oh so many eons ago. All she had was the light of the fires she lit crashing down into a planet that had no idea what struck it.

She vaguely remembers the coordinates of the planet, but to double check she goes towards a torn escape pod. There’s a few scattered to the edge of the crash, so it was simple enough to obtain the data and quickly scampers along, though not without noting the lack of pods.  _ Maybe some of the crew got away? Maybe Catra… _

No. No time. Adora finds a small nook in a kill with enough rock to make for a decent enough hiding place. She sets up camp, a small fire, the torn bed roll and the radio she’s working on. The stars would light for a while, she could work on tuning the radio and sending a distress signal with her coordinates. It would be a quiet night full of worry, but her body was used to it. It was another day as the hero of Etheria. Mechanical work, a perfect machine, just like the Heart or the defense mechanism or any piece of magical technology. One in the same.

It grinds her thoughts but eventually, she collapses to her exhaustion, sleeping restlessly a short nap filled with similar frenzied thoughts. Probably why she woke up drawing her sword when she heard someone take a sit and open one of her ration packs.

Catra was sat there, eating one of her ration bars. Her mane was tied back, jacket torn, and dirtied. She lazily cast her eyes on Adora, thoroughly finishing her bite before speaking: “ _ Hey, Adora.” _

“You shut up. What are you doing!” She had slipped into a crouching position reaching for her sword— that had been moved. Now it is laid under Catra’s heel.

“Enjoying a bite. What else.” She pops a bit of ration bar into her mouth,” I did always enjoy the gray bars more than the brown ones. What do you think?”

Adora growled, clenching her fists, “Get. Out.”

“Oh, sorry, did I eat your gray one?”

“Look, princess, we are both stranded here. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already done so, you know I am not lord of the horde for show,” Catra offers a smirk, and Adora cannot argue with that logic choosing to lower her fist. Catra’s ear flicks and she pushes the sword over with her barefoot, in a sign of goodwill, “We are on a desolate planet, Adora, alone. We are either going to die here or wait for rescue, and I got a deal for you.”

Adora grabs the sword warily and approaches Catra, sitting by her once best friend. The feline hands her a ration bar, and they quietly chew. “We are both waiting to be dragged out of here. I say, if your folk show up? Take me back. If mine do, I take you back. No prisoners of war, since we both have a common enemy, just a ride to the next safe place.” 

“You want a truce?”

“Till we are out of here, yeah,” Catra shrugs, “You watch my back, I watch yours.”

She can hear the echo, of a young Adora and young Catra sat on their bunk, reassuring one another. _ Nothing truly bad can happen if we have one another.  _ Begrudgingly, Adora accepts, “Deal.”

Days turned to weeks, and weeks into months. Not a sign of help or of hope, so Adora and Catra had to relearn to work with one another.

They had been there for what seemed like an eternity and the local creatures were hellbent on continuously trying to either eat them or rip the two apart. Still, Catra and Adora were able to stand their ground, and managed to get out of countless tussles that would have been lost had they been alone. When She-ra could not overpower an enemy, Catra could outsmart them. When Catra could not out run, Adora could stop the creatures in their tracks. They were a team to be recon with, as much as they hated it.

They set a schedule of one sleeping while the other listened for any transmissions, quietly accepting their old trust, dividing the responsibilities of their pseudo-domestic, and it was easy to come to terms with the trust they had to just assume. 

Neither wanted to die or be stranded, much less alone, so they simply went with their guts feelings, casting idle glances, offering half-baked aid, and sharing what little they had to give.  _ Nothing truly bad could happen. _

  
  


“It's been what….” 

“About two months,” Adora sighs, tying her hair back and taking a seat by the entrance of the cave. Catra scoffs, stirring the pot of local-fauna stew.

“And nothing.” It was no secret that Catra was prone to being crabby, but Adora was more than a little hurt by that statement. Not by Catra’s spiteful remark, but because Adora thought she was more important than to leave stranded or assumed dead without at least risking a peep at the crash site. She  _ was  _ She-ra, afterall. 

“Don’t look so glum,” Catra grumbles, taking a spoonful of the stew before adding some salt, noticing Adora’s stiff crossed arms and growing pout,” This is how it is. War. We are all important till we cost more than what anyone is willing to invest on us.”

“What are you talking about? Glimmer and Bow are the heads of the rebellion and they are my—“

“Friends? Grow up. It's been how many years? People want this war over, Adora. It's nothing personal.”

“How would you know.”

The silence settles, only the sound of the pot stirring filling it. The ex-horde plainly states, “I have left many friends in the field.”

“They would never-!  _ I  _ would never-!“

“You left me, so you have.”

They are both quiet as Catra turns off the burner, Adora's eyes searing in wounded ego, and yet, Catra calmly moves the pot, “And you promised not to.”

“Catra, I never wanted to leave.”

“But you did,” She pours two bowls, setting one down on the small box they had used as a table since their arrival, “You had a destiny to fulfill didn’t you? And I wasn’t part of that. So you left.”

“That was never—“

“ _ Personal.”  _ She raises an eyebrow, and the blonde slowly comes to sit, “Like I said.  _ Nothing personal, _ I outgrew it.”

“No, you didn’t. You still talk like you resent me. Catra, you were the one who divided the rebellion, who split our forces, and gave Prime an upper hand, your decisions have extended the war,” Adora says, taking her spoonful, frowning at her bowl,” Why do you have so much pride? We could have—“

“Could have what?”

Adora shakes her head, lowering her spoon down,“Done this. Together.”

A claw shoots across the meal, grabbing the front of Adora’s shirt, a loud hissed snarl leaving Catra’s curled lips, “Don’t lie to my face! You left me with Shadow Weaver, with Hordak, with  _ everyone  _ who  _ ever _ wanted to hurt us!”

She-ra just stares at her, not lashing out, not even holding her hands up in defense,”I am not lying. If you think I am, that’s on you. I wanted nothing but to convince you to come with me. I tried over and over and over again. But like always! You were stubborn, wanted to do your own thing, prove yourself to gods know who!”

“Don’t blame me for the consequences of  _ your _ actions, Catra. For once in your life, take responsibility.” 

The two stare at each other, Catra’s two colored eyes full of anger and Adora’s full of remorse. The feline throws her back, taking a seat and retaking her meal. The two would share the silence and the stew, though of course, Adora couldn’t stay quiet for long, “We still bicker like back in the Fright Zone.”

“That was so long ago.”

“We haven’t changed much.”

Catra snorts, “As if I ever wanted to change.”

That’s right. They never wanted things to change. Both craved the familiarity of the other, and hid it best they could in their monstrously forced domestic situation, both in the Horde and on this planet. Catra grumbles something, ignoring Adora as best as she can, not shrinking into herself but staring into her meal with utter disdain. Adora sees something in Catra’s lowered eyes— regret. Maybe remorse? Isolation and desolation. Longing. Most of all  _ saudade. _

In an impulsive heartbeat, the rebellion member reaches over the table, grabbing Catra by the front of the shirt and yanking her close. Nose to nose, the two are again peering into each other’s eyes. This time, Adora’s baby blues are issuing a challenge, one Catra cannot resist, “So why don’t you tell me what you actually want.”

Catra’s lip curls, hissing— until Adora presses her lips against her, roughly. Surprisingly, her ex-friend returns that gesture after a heartbeat, grabbing right back, gripping her shirt. 

Adora moves a bit, taking them out from the table area, afraid to knock over their precious food, stunned that Catra follows, claws shearing her shirt’s sides. They topple onto the cave ground, a dull thud muffled against Catra’s back as the princess adjusts, straddling her hips. It escalates very quickly: Catra shreds her claws around Adora’s side and towards her abs, running a hand upwards onto her chest, while Adora is opening the cat’s belt and pants without parting from their aggressive kissing.

“Damn it. The sand is getting in my fur.” Catra moans into Adora’s lips. The blonde groans in annoyance, collecting Catra and slamming her unceremoniously against the cave’s wall. It elicits a loud yowl, but Catra’s legs have already wrapped around her hips.

Adora gives her a smug smirk,“You are  _ such _ a princess.”

A claw grips her face, though it isn’t as rough as it could have been, “Do  _ not _ call me that.”

“Heh! But  _ you ar—“  _ She snorts and laughs, only quieting when they crash into another kiss, reigniting past the small pause, Catra’s sharp fangs scraping her skin, the black claws slip down to only holding her chin so as to silence her. Adora complies, her tongue toying with the inhuman teeth that gave Catra a particularly endearing smirk that could charm the very devil.

Her tongue meets Catra’s, tangling and willing her body to press the cat’s body further against the wall, eliciting a purr. Adora can fill Catra slider her sharp nails up her sides and to her back, though it's difficult to keep track, far too busy with trying to catch her breath. When she forces herself to pull back, Catra takes a nip of her lip, lingering till she lets out a huff as well, “Not bad, She-ra.” The cat is running a hand back to her front, taking up the corner of Adora’s shirt to yank it off. Somehow, that cascades everything. 

The shirt falls to the floor, they press themselves together, the rumbling of Catra’s purring and sharp smirk keeping Adora’s eyes on her while the belt and pants are opened. In a small shuffle Adora tumbles them into one of the sleeping cots, and it creaks violently under their combined weight. Both of the women give some noise of concern, but once Catra steadies straddling Adora’s hips and settling her hands by the soldier’s head, tail tense, Adora holds the Cat’s side half waiting for the cot to give. After a split second of nothing falling apart, the two look onto one another and let out a pair of loud laughs.

It had been the first time in years that either of them had laughed wholeheartedly, the realization shakes them and alienates them. Now they truly look eye to eye, taken aback by their sudden surge of emotions. Catra grips and releases the pillow under Adora’s head, and the blonde adjusts, bending her knees and bracing her heels on the edge of the cot. There’s something familiar. The rickety bedding, the surprise of the attraction, the completely unexpected tension; just like back in the Hord, a eon ago when Catra first fell on top of Adora in the empty dorms.

It brings a softness to their previous rush. Adora reaches up, cupping Catra’s face, the feline averting her eyes. Adora was about as naked as she could be, Catra in nothing but her pants, and still, She-ra could only offer a soft smile, “I missed you. All these years, Catra.”

“You are such an idiot,’ It takes a second but Catra looks back at her, “But when haven’t you been one.”

“Like I said. We haven’t changed much, have we? '' Adora sits up, cupping Catra’s face in both hands now, bringing her into her lips again.

They breath together, noses touching but as their lips draw close, the tip of the feline’s tongue flicks against the corner of the rebel’s mouth, purring with half lidded eyes, smugness dripping from her voice, “I won’t give you that.”

“Then,” Adora’s tongue moves out too, pressing on Catra’s for a small second before the two butt heads and groan,”What  _ will _ you give me?”

“Don’t wanna spoil it,” Catra is kissing over her chin, down past her jaw, her claws raking over the soldier’s back. She’s purring, occupying up Adora’s lap, teeth scraping over the bare skin. It leaves a small red trail, and Adora’s soft moan only encourages her to tease her hand into the tousled mane of the feline. They are impossibly close, chest flushed together, and while Catra considers moving back, only to be pulled in again, muffled against Adora’s skin. She eggs Catra on, letting her bite and suckle more, clutching to Adora, finally feeling like she was claiming what was rightfully hers.

After a solid minute of it, Adora flops back, bringing the cat down onto her. Catra yowls softly after choking on the mouthful of Adora she had. She pulls up looking at the blonde, who is red, blushed, her neck and shoulder a mess of the start of bruises and teeth marks. While Catra considered saying something, the firm hand grabbing her rear caught her by surprise, in tandem with the baby-blue eyes gaining some sort of glow and firmness.  _ Oh, she liked that. _

And a lot. Adora’s hand is wandering over the tailbone, down between Catra’s thighs, caressing the space between the horde leader’s legs. The force is enough to lift the cat’s hips a bit, tipping her into Adora’s chest. Adora hums drunk on the surprise in the two feline eyes, “That was pretty good. I think I like those teeth of yours, but I like  _ this _ more…” She punctuates her sentence squeezing and kneading Catra’s crotch, “Your pants? Not so much. Mind if I --”

“ _ Shut up, Adora,”  _ the touch makes her snarl, sitting up and fumbling with her pants. Adora removed her hand and brought them to the front of the cat to feel her chest and abdomen, letting her work on removing those pesky tight jeans.

On fire again, Catra is leaning down to kiss Adora, the blonde taking the opportunity to once more bring her hand between Catra’s legs and tease the tips of her fingers along her core, her other hand wrapped around, massaging her tail’s base. In those ministrations, Catra purrs, pulling on the golden locks as their tongues mingle. Her finger feels the warm skin, Catra’s hips push into her hand, grinding in sudden jerks that she tries to deny. She moans at this, pressing in two fingers to rub the Feline’s clit between her digits. This brings out a moan and a bite on her lip that stings sweetly. Catra’s tail has entangled on her wrist, keeping that hand on her ass there, while her leg hooked into one of Adora’s -- Now she realizes how tangled the two are, but Adora wouldn’t have it any other way.

Catra once more adjusts, now sliding down the shoulder, past the neck bone that she gladly marks, finally taking her tongue and raking it over Adora’s nipple, perked from the undeniable arousal the blonde was getting from the biting and fingering, especially as she finally plunges to fingers in, gently splaying her digits, easing out a few steady humps. In the years of her freedom from the horde control, Adora had certainly daydreamed about it, guiltily keeping the thought to herself in lonely nights in her room. Catra. On top of her. Purring for her hand to press harder.

This was so messy, sloppy even, but after months of being stranded on the desolate planet? They both obviously wanted nothing more than release, and Adora was thrilled to be there with the person she had wanted for years.She had no reason to stop, no reason to feel ashamed for laying with the enemy. Her old past, returned to claim her. How could she say no? The rebellion had abandoned her; she could abandon them too. 

Here she was, riding her hand, biting and playing with her chest -- the sharp nails tracing down her hips, marking her thighs. This was all Adora ever needed. No She-ra. No war. Just an empty planet,knuckle deep in Catra, their heavy breathing filling the cave that they had called home. She was so busy with her daydream that she didn’t feel Catra adjust, pressing her leg between Adora’s thighs. She becomes painfully aware of her need, her dry mouth and wet core, stinging as she gets a full view of Catra, war scars, muscle and sweat, growling out a “Move, Adora.”

Her brain shorts out, but she removes her hand, licking over her fingers as the cat moves a bit, locking legs and pressing their needy hips in tight, bracing Adora’s leg over her shoulder. The soft gray tufts of hair brush Adora’s ankle, a small moment she, for some reason, loves. Adora adjusts just a bit before dropping flat on her back and pushing back the stray hair out of her face, resting her hand on her forehead, chancing a look down at their hips locked together as Catra starts to grind in with a new, louder snarl of pleasure. The rub of their swollen clits, warm skin, the rising heat that spreads from her stomach all the way down to the spot where the two meet— All Adora does is close her eyes and bite her hip, enjoying the friction and push, her chest flaring with desperate groans. She feels Catra’s tail around the ankle on the cot, her rumbling and firm presses growing desperate the longer they both voice their pleasure. 

Adora had both hands on her face, trying to hide her blushed face, trying to reel her breathing in, trying to gasp for enough air for her lungs -- and Catra was relentless, accepting her hips’ betrayal, thrusting against Adora as the cot creaked in distrust. The end comes so abruptly, that they both yelp at uneven times, shuddering as Catra attempts to ride out her own orgasm and ease Adora down hers, only for her to drop down onto Adora after overheating. The cot gives under the sudden shift in weight, collapsing. The blonde instinctually wraps her arms around Catra, grasping her in both the fright and the need for warmth, bracing the jolt of the fall. 

They don’t acknowledge it for a bit, panting against one another, muffled into the brown mane and into the bruised neck respectively, still a tangled mess, hearts thumping against the other. 

“....We, uh….heh heh, we broke the cot….” She speaks into the brunette’s hair with a small chuckle.

“Yeah. Don’t….. Don’t mention it.” It's but a soft annoyed growl.

“But--”   
“I said don’t mention it, Adora.”

Adora left it alone, and within a few minutes of silence, she was fast asleep, leaving Catra alone with her thoughts, nestled in her arms. 

Catra chances a glance up, seeing the bruised and pretty much mangled shoulder of the rebellion fighter, a mosaic of love bites and bruises, aged by years of separation. She sits up a bit, watching Adora continue sleeping like a log.  _ To think this is She-ra.  _ A childhood friend who she had lost to destiny. She abhorred it. The memory that branded her. Adora on the floor unconscious in that forest after the skiff accident. She replayed it so many times that it had become distorted like so many things in her mind. A memory that she had burned on her chest, away from prying eyes. The Lord of the Horde, with no time for any hesitation, pain, or doubt.

As her hand traced Adora’s neck she considered ending the war right then and there. Her nails would be enough to cut deep. Instead she runs that hand down Adora’s chest, spotting marks and scars she herself had left on She-ra during their years of conflicts. Her palm opens on the warm flesh in the cleft between Adora’s breast, still cozy from how she had been purring there a few minutes ago. Or maybe that was Adora’s heart. She couldn’t tell anymore, but she could hear the steady beat under her claw.  _ If she came with me, we could win, be together _ .  _ She could stay with me.  _

The odds of that were highly unlikely. The Rebellion had weathered double what the horde had thanks to She-ra, and Adora was so convinced of her need to be with the good guys. Oh, Catra knew she was the bad guy. But what else could she do?  _ Let her go? _ The only thing that kept Adora enthralled with her was the steady flow of defiance from her. It was the only way to prove she was worth it. Worth every scar, every bruise, every fight and battle they had clashed in.

Her hand starts to slip away only to be caught by Adora, pressing Catra’s palm to her heart. The blonde grumbles a sort of purr of her own before giving a grin without opening her eyes, “Hey, Catra.”

The smugness and dopey stumble of words makes the feline ears perk and twitch, “What’s with that smirk.”

“Hehe,  _ you were watching me sleep.” _

“It’s not because I like you.”

“Dunno.  _ The neck caress felt like you do like me.” _

_ “  _ I will strangle you, Adora.”

“‘I like when you say my name.”

“Excuse me.”

The red in her cheeks had escalated. Catra’s tail was flicking like a restless whip back and forth. Adora’s hand kept her nailed to the blonde’s heart. That pesky heart that had caused them both so many growing pains, “When you say my name. I always liked it. I am not She-ra to you.  _ I am Adora.” _

She didn’t have to look into Adora’s eyes to know the hurt that lingered, not even the blonde’s closed eyes could hide that. Adora had always had some complex that she never had pinned. Now she thought she understood. 

Catra leans in, placing a ghost of a peck to her cheek, “Why would I call you  _ that _ . You are Adora. Since I met you and till I end you.”

“That’s an end I’d gladly accept,” Adora speaks and Catra’s hand is squeezed, refusing to open her eues, “There’s no one’s hand I’d rather fall to.”

“Shut up.” She pulls her hand away, “I am reheating the stew. You want some?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Catra.”

They shared that meal half naked, the first of many in the next two weeks. After breaking that initial barrier between them, things fell apart in every sense. The cot was not fixed after the third time it broke, and at times they chose to just stay close to the wall to avoid the sand. It was an odd set of days, the two close to the other, attempting to figure out what the other gave them. 

A particularly starry night, the two were reclined watching the diner smolder, commenting on this or that, reminiscing on the past and avoiding the mention of the future. “The prom was very interesting, I still can't believe your plan worked out so well,” Adora drinks water, lowering her mug.

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason I got the Force Captain title so quick. Hordak knew I had a few live brain cells up there,” scoffs Catra, stealing the mug to drink from it, licking her lips after, “Scorpia helped a ton though. She is an amazing leader in her own way. Great second in command.”

“Can you believe it? The war has gotten so bad, the prom got cancelled. If it were still on… it’d be any day right?”

“Yeah. Been ten years, give or take.” She peeps into the mug. She always refused to look at whoever she spoke with unless it was to assert dominance, but Adora always found it endearing how many things Catra could distract herself on.

“Man. I learned all those lessons for nothing,” Adora pouts, resting her crossed arms on her knees.

Catra raises an eyebrow, then tilts her head. Setting the mug down again, she gets up stretching , “Yeah, you are right. What a waste, hated memorizing them all.” 

Her hand enters Adora’s vision. She-ra blinks and looks up at Catra, who wields that charming lopsided smirk, flashing those pointy pearly whites, “Would be a shame to not get at least one dance in, right?”

It takes Adora a second before she brightens up, taking Catra’s hand to be pulled up onto her feet out into the vast expanses of the desert. Catra parts to offer her arm like the Princess Prom rules dictate, letting Adora cross arms with her to start the tedious dance that was largely simplified thanks to it only having two participants.

“You are a pretty good dancer.”

“I may not be as strong as you, but we both know who's got the quicker feet,” Catra grins, tail giving a little wiggle, the two taking a lil spin and and press, separating and reuniting, “But you aren’t half bad, princess.”

“Well. Thanks, I guess. Was that an insult?” She whispers the last bit, Catra cackling.

“Take that as you want,” Catra grins, wiggling an eyebrow, “You  _ are  _ very good at taking things, after all.”

“Oh shush!” Adora spins them, dipping the feline who laughs further in the motion, hanging in Adora’s arms. 

The blonde smirks, bringing her up. This close, Adora’s eyes soften, their foreheads pressed together, Catra purring ever so softly. Adora suddenly comes to the decision, “Catra. I think I lov—“

A light flashes on them, Catra lifts her head looking up as does Adora, seeing a ship lowering down. Reality came galloping in. Adora’s fear returns, Catra’s insecurities rearing their heads. The arm around Catra’s waist pulls her closer, and the two bump forehead again, demanding they each peer into the other’s eyes. 

“Don’t go, Catra.”

“Adora, I promised to take you home if they came for me first, I am a woman of my word in my own way.”

“ _ That’s not what I meant.” _

“What do you mean then?”

They pause as the ship lands.

“Don’t go. I can’t lose you. Not again.”

“You left—“

“And that decision has haunted me for ten years.”

“We both made our choices.”

“And I can’t let you go!” Adora lashes out, her nails digging into Catra’s lower back, eyes slamming shut, as her voice trembles, “ _ Not again.” _

The engine turns off, Catra’s ears lowering at that last statement.

“We can take down Prime together, Adora. You don’t have to go back to the rebellion. They may not even be standing after you were stranded,” She speaks solemnly, hands going up to hold Adora’s face, closing her eyes, “Together, we can conquer anything, Prime. Etheria. The rebellion, the horde— whatever we want, whatever we need. We just have to do it together!”

  
  


“Stay with me, Adora. I climbed so much, I am the Horde Commander. No one will  _ ever  _ hurt you!” Catra is speaking hurriedly, knowing someone is approaching. Knowing she has to convince Adora  _ now, “ _ I can give you everything and anyth—“

“I just want you, Catra,” She cuts her off entirely, catching Catra by surprise. She can hear Scorpia walking towards them, already yelling in her excitement. Catra takes a breath, taking in those words, “You are the only one I have ever wanted.”

Catra’s heart stops, and she closes her eyes as Scorpia stops a few meters away, realizing she was walking into something. 

“Then, I am all yours, Adora.”

  
  



	2. Outro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chipped Adora from this AU -- will it happen? Who knows.

_ Thud. _

She hits the table too hard, rolling away as the sword crashes into the table, cutting it clean in two as the cat pounces off the one half she had more land on -- only for her tail to be grabbed, yanked, and cast aside, throwing all of Catra off to the side and into the other surface. The cat yowls loudly from the rough gesture, trying to twist to land on her feet only to have her face slam into the metal table of Horde Prime’s ship.

She groans, trying to get up and simply collapsing on it as her eyes fill with stars. Right. Adora and her were about to take Prime. She miscalculated. Now she had an eight foot tall magical warrior slamming her around and not in the way she wanted.  _ Chipped  _ eight foot tall magical warrior. Catra tries again to push her upper half, only for the full weight of Adora to pin her down, a large hand on her head as it’s pressed to the table. Catra hisses and kicks with claws, enough to probably draw blood. The cat tumbles over the other side of the table as She-ra holds the shallow wound -- it heals, only leaving a tear and a few smears of blood.

“Adora. Listen to me,” now with the table between them, Catra tries to regain her footing, “I know you’re in there and I need you to work through whatever the  _ hell _ this is!” 

She-ra slams her hands on the table, leaving a bit of her blood on the pristine surface. “Why do you struggle? You broke so much -- and now you try to be a hero?  _ That’s not fair, Catra.” _

That almost sounds like Adora, and it makes Catra’s trail curl around her leg as she gives a shaky laugh, right through her facade of bravery. ”I am not trying to be a hero! Fuck Etheria, I am here for you, you idiot!”

Her hands clenched into a fist over the table. Catra swears she sees a flicker of blue in those eyes.

Adora roars, and pushes the table along in blind rage. Catra jumps, clearing and landing on the table -- They both slide until the table crashes into the opposite wall, Catra’s back smacking into it and making her collapse from her balanced crouch. Again, the glimmering painted stars cover her entire vision, fingertips feeling the indents her claws left in her attempt to stay on the table. It feels like her entire body gave up, and she is unceremoniously leaned on the wall -- Adora’s hot breath right on her face. As her vision clears she sees two baby-blues, the start of tears welling in the corner of her scared eyes.

Catra reaches up, gingerly cupping She-ra’s cheek. She can feel all of Adora tremble at her touch.

In the gentlest of whispers, She-ra asks, “You promise?”

“I promise,” Catra replies, not taking a second to think or consider the possibilities of failure. She can’t. Not with Adora nuzzling into her hand, softly, in need of reassurance. Adora’s hand wraps around her wrist, holding her hand close, not allowing her to move it away.

Of course, that’s her first mistake. Forgetting there’s still a chip on Adora’s neck. When She-ra yanks her into a kiss, she is more shocked than anything, ears perking and fur bristling. The touch turns rough, her wrist is crushed under the strong grip of She-ra. The line between danger and acceptance blurs far too quickly for Catra, who had done nothing but miss Adora since the blonde was taken from her. 

While it hurts, part of her feels she deserves it.

Against her better judgement she returns the gesture, even as She-ra uses her other hand to forcefully pull Catra’s leg along to her hip. The Horde Lord gasps, then groans as her head tumbles onto the table she had been cornered on. While her hand goes to cradle her poor noggin, Adora has already ripped the red mask off her face, throwing it to the side and leaning over her with both hands planted by her head.   
  
_ Holy shit,  _ Catra chirps nervously under She-ra, watching her huff between exertion and what is probably Adora trying to fight for full control. Regardless, the way Catra is stuck under her does things to her she would never be admitting to the blonde. She is certainly staring at the muscles tense and contract, the nice window she tore in She-ra’s outfit at abdomen level gave her an amazing view too -- 

Her thoughts cut as Adora grips her face in a single massive hand leaning into another grounding kiss, Catra bringing up her hands to the mess that was She-ra’s long mess of blonde hair. As Adora bites and tugs at her lip, Catra chances a glance, meeting glances with the baby blue’s again, begging for permission and probably forgiveness. All Catra does is give her an encouraging purr, tugging gently on her hair as her tongue presses into her mouth, possessively taking the space in the feline’s mouth with a flash of green over taking her eyes.

In the same motion, Catra gets pulled into She-ra’s abs, the much larger woman curled over the smaller woman, a hand forcing her into the kiss and the other working on opening the curve fitting suit the cat always wore. Her fingers are clumsy, brash, ripping the cloth instead of opening it, making Catra give a yowl into the blonde’s mouth. Her mind wanders much too quickly, feeling Adora’s hips push into her, grinding against her. Her mouth is busy, her hands are weaved into Adora’s hair -- so her legs wrap around the thick waist of her former partner.

The hand that had been strongarming her face into a vice grip of a kiss lets go, giving her a small moment to roll her jaw, groaning as She-ra moves to pull her shirt off. Catra chirps again, watching the woman flex in the motion and throw off her tiara when it gets caught in the shirt. She immediately comes back, planting her hands at Catra’s sides, like a wolf on prowl, panting heavily, face red -- Adora’s blue eyes are on Catra’s as the cat cups her face and brings her into a kiss, the cat purring for her again as she feels their hips push in feverishly heat. “Stay, Adora.”

The blonde groans, closing her eyes as their tongues mingle, the pace of their crash slowing, burning tenderly for a small moment before Adora’s fingers grip tightly again, moaning as she rips Catra’s suit down till its stuck at her hips, caught between the feline and Adora’s body. The sharp fangs tease over her lips, but given enough room, Catra is biting over a shoulder, dragging her nails down the tense back, making Adora roll her hips hard and sudden, giving Catra a shove.

The cat digs in her nails, and She-ra finally pushes her fingers past the balled up collection of fabric, battle worn fingers caressing her where she needed the most. Catra makes her pleasure known, groaning close to Adora’s ear. With a new wave of roughness and tension, She-ra is hastily pushing two fingers past the tempting warmth and wetness. The intrusion is practiced, smooth and intense, it brings the stars back to her eyes in a jolt of pleasured pain. She whimpers a small, “ _ Adora.” _

That seems to send a shock through She-ra’s back, and it makes the warrior straighten up and push with enough force and at an angle that makes the cat’s hips lift, stomach clenching as Adora goes knuckle deep, her tail curling on the contracted bicep. They meet eyes, and it’s blue on blue, the two giving the other a whine and a cut off moan, Catra’s ankles being moved in another harsh motion. She locks her ankles over the broad shoulder of the princess, digging her nails into the edge of the table above her head. She leans down again, bracing an arm on the table as she fingers Catra, nestling into her chest to hide the returning green as her hand tilts to press the heel of her palm in and basically kneads all of Catra’s core.

The two are pressed and tangled, nothing but slams between their skin and the table that hits the wall with every sudden burst of rough thrusts. The sound of their breathlessness and Catra’s occasional chirp and hiss. In a pang of need, Catra grabs She-ra’s face in a claw and makes her stare into her eyes. With the bold gesture, the green melts away, the two lovers losing a moment to lock eyes -- just as Catra’s climax tumbles out in a hurried mess.

The stars return, but this time with a wave of relief, and she can feel Adora’s greedy eyes on her, refusing to let her go or let her down, not that her claws had moved away from her face. When she is finally spent, Catra is nothing but a panting rag doll, needing a moment even as She-ra moves her hand out -- and yet she grabs She-ra’s wrist and pulls it up as she sits.

For once, She-ra is not moving, enthralled by the feline’s dilated eyes. Her hand trembles as Catra’s tongue plays around the digits that had been deep in her. It shakes Adora, who cannot look away as her fingers are moved past Catra’s lips, teasing the razor sharp fangs across her digits, cleaning up her shaky fingers with such ease and skill, that She-ra has no idea of how and when Catra has stood up and nudged her enough to open room between the table and the warrior.

Catra keeps her eyes on Adora’s, working her tongue between her digits suggestively, all while sinking to her knees, tail coiling on the blonde’s ankle. She realizes Catra had let go of her wrist and she had kept playing with her mouth, pressing her fingertips between the molars, the fangs, exploring the danger that she invited daily -- her wonder is cut as the shorts are pulled down, briefs and all. 

Catra sees a flash of green but Adora is far too tangled to let go now, wanting nothing but Catra’s attention, as she removes her fingers to bring them up to lick while the feline purrs, “Stay with me, Adora, I got you.  _ Don’t leave my sight.” _

She-ra nods hurriedly as Catra peppers kisses into her inner thigh. The cat feels as if a tank hit her and left her for dead. Her body aches, pangs with the pain of the fight and the preceding love. And yet, Adora’s fingers weaving into the knots of her shoulders ease her into the heat of Adora’s leg. She nuzzles her thigh, purring at the loving gesture she knows is  _ her Adora.  _ Though the confirmation of the blue eyes on her is nice. She keeps their eye contact as she nudges her legs apart enough to press her tongue over Adora’s core.

Her tongue spends no time teasing, two or three licks and she presses the tip of her tongue to the sensitive clit, immediately feeling a tug on her hair as Adora inhales sharply.  _ It really wouldn’t take long _ , or at least Catra thinks it won’t. She lips press a soft kiss before letting her tongue trail lower and into the princess, letting the yank and hip jerk push her deeper than she expected. Catra almost breaks eye contact at the sudden shove, but she steadies, refusing to let go of Adora. It isn’t long before her tongue is being ridden along by She-ra who is nothing short of screaming her pleasure. Catra has to brace her claws on She-ra’s thighs, doing her best to cushion the blows of the large woman’s hips slamming into her jaw -- And there’s no warning to a last shaky push that bends Adora’s knees and muffles Catra with a new mix of sweat and sweet nectar.

They probably stood like that a solid minute before the She-ra collapsed and leaned into Catra, knocking the cat over in an avalanche, pinning her under the exhausted woman. She does not fight it, wrapping her arms around Adora, clinging to her, nails and all. Certainly the war had not paused, neither had their fears and phobias, but for now, Catra only cared about this woman.

“I will take you home, Adora.”

  
“You promise?”

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK if I will do the whole AU arc, but we will see :)


	3. Into the Heart Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a run in with a chipped Adora, Catra is entrusted with the task of saving all of Etheria, a job she does not want nor deserves. Still, after Adora asks her to do it, she has no choice but to start a journey that puts her in a walk through her worst moments...
> 
> And her best ones.

The ship was rather spacious. It was by far the largest unit, Entrapta’s pride and joy. Catra knew the only reason Scorpia brought it was because it was the unit with the best on-board autopilot. She didn’t doubt the scorpion had grabbed it and ran as soon as she had a slight clue of where Catra was stranded. It was a reckless, thoughtless action, but the kind that made Catra sure there was no better second in command that she could ever ask for. 

Entrapta was by the front counter, calibrating the ship to start the trip to Krytis, per Adora’s advice.

By now she had taken a seat on a windowsill of one of the five empty rooms, tail furling and unfurling in her shaken nerves. She had lost Adora, and, as she looked into her reflection glistening on the edge of the Sword of Protection. Her reflection could not hide l how much her failure weighed on her.

After the run in with She-ra, Catra had desperately tried to claw the chip until Adora cried out for her to stop. It was a rude awakening, shattering the screeches in Catra’s brain to a halt. Theblonde bowed her head, cradling the back of her neck in pain, feeling the humidity of the teeming blood. The feline sets her hand over the wounds she had just made, apologizing many times, whispering  _ Sorry _ after  _ Sorry _ . She is desperate, helpless, and seeing Adora’s chip spark and force her sink to further does not help. Her eyes dart around for anything, now trying to find any word to assure Adora. She says they will get out, that they will win, that somehow they will go home.

She can’t lose her again, not this way, leaving Adora in a mess, used as a weapon -- Not  _ Her  _ Adora. The bright eyed woman who wanted nothing but to be a hero. 

Catra has kept talking, not even realizing it, and it's Adora’s bloodied hand that stops her, resting over her claws, “Catra. It’s okay. You need to go.”

“What? No, I am not leaving you again Adora. You made me leave last time! And this happened!” Catra hisses, another hand cupping her face and quieting her. Adora rests her forehead onto the cat, “ Adora. No. I am not leaving. Please, you can’t ask me to--”

“It’s okay,” She says again, closing her eyes, caressing Catra’s face with her thumb, “You need to go. Prime is going to Etheria. He will destroy it. Do not let him do that, please.”

  
“Adora-”

  
“For me, Catra?”

She feels her stomach drop, her heart wrenches, and Adora opens her eyes, begging for some reassurance. Catra can’t say no. It hurts, worse than anything Shadow Weaver or Hordak ever did to her, worse than the nights alone, the endless sparring, more than any battle wound-- the realization that Adora was giving up was worse than death. Adora was at the end of her rope. She won’t move, she won’t try. There was no way to get anything out of the blonde. There was nothing but embers. 

Catra brings up her hand over Adora’s gripping it to her heart, “I  **will** come back for you.”

“Of course you will,” Adora smiles at her, a gesture that shows doubt and hurts Catra. The blonde lowers her arms and looks to the side in a grimace as her neck sparks, “You need to go to Krytis. There is something there, something Prime fears. There will be something there and Catra…”

She looks over to the Sword. This is obviously a difficult decision, a hard set of words. Seeing as how the cat’s outfit is ruined, she moves to take her red jacket off, and hands it over to Catra, ”Take this and the sword. And run. As fast as you can. I will stay here as long as I can, give you a headstart..”

Catra takes the jacket, gripping it for a moment before standing as she throws it on. Her hesitation comes when she goes to take the sword. She forces her body to run to the door, forcing every fiber of muscle into the gesture, “Adora I --”

The blonde and the feline meet eyes, and a lump forms at her throat. She knows exactly what she wants to say and what she needs to say. She can’t. She leaves with a, “I will be back.”

Adora smiles in pain, and nods.

With that they part, ripped from each other yet again. The Horde Lord was not happy. In turning and dashing she lets out a primal roar, her only voiced defiance to this foil of destiny.

Catra is running. Faster than she has in a long time, in fear and anger, righteous fury. She catches sight of her discarded bag. In a swipe she drops onto her two hands grabbing it and continuing her run. Slinging it over her shoulder, she ruffles it about to pull the collapsed helmet Entrapta had given her. She flicks her wrist out to expand it, and props it onto her head, connecting to the voice channel, “Entrapta! Like we planned!”

_ “Roger, Catra! We were sure you were dead!”  _

“As if.”

Catra makes a turn, having memorized the halls the first time she was there. A left, another, a right, she slides to a stop as a few Horde clones find her. They rush her. The nimble cat jumps off a wall and over one of the horde clones, clawing the second across the neck as she makes a pass to the hall she needs to get to, ignoring the second one who is surely calling for support. All she can think of is the dead end that she wanted. 

Finding it, the cat stands in front of the glass wall, the calm of the expansive universe teasing a peace she never knew. Gripping the sword in a hand, tail furling and flicking in the air, her ear pivots at the voice that resonates behind her, “ _ Oh little sister, you have created such a mess. Dare I say, you almost impress me.”  _

She turns to see a crowd of Horde clones, the one in the front being used as a vessel by Prime. Can’t mistake that shit eating grin that spreads over its face, smug and egotistical. Catra truly hated seeing some of herself in that reflection,  _ “Ah, but your plans, they fail so much. You truly believed that you could take back She-ra, your Adora. I am Horde Prime, I see all. I know all. Including your incompetence, and your Adora’s weakness for beings destined for destruct-- “ _

He is cut off by Catra’s laugh, shrill and nasally. She stops to catch her breath and runs a hand down her face, “Jeez, you really like to run your mouth, and I thought Hordak talked too much.”

Her two colored eyes sink on Prime, whose smirk wrinkles into a scowl, “Look at me. I will be the one to kill you.”

“ _ You insolent--” _

“You want your sword?!” She holds the sword of Protection with a slack wrist, “Come and get, like the good boy you are.”

The vessel glares at her, the gesture enough to cause the pack of clones to start their dash, Catra raises her hand. She waits a split second measuring the distance and their speed, and snaps her fingers,  _ Five meters. _

Darla crashes in from the side of the hall, taking out the clones in one fell swoop. Catra hid behind the crook of her elbow, but as she uncovers she laughs, “Amateurs!” 

“Let’s roll, girls!” She jumps and sinks her claws into the ship. The helm would give her a few minutes of air, enough to climb back into the ship once Darla had been dislodged in its quick getaway. 

Climbing in was easy enough, but once inside, Catra is taking her helmet off and kicks it away, not having to say a word as she walks into the captain’s helm. The sword is given over to Entrapta, as well as a quick snarl to demand they head to Krytis. They knew better than to ask for more information, aware that their captain would not speak unless she felt the need. Scorpia and Entrapta get right to work.

That’s how she had ended up in the chair, alone, looking over the sword once Entrapta had gotten most of the information she needed from the first one relic.  _ Krytis.  _ That was her only clue, her only hint at how to take out Prime. Her only way to  _ save Etheria. The only way to save Adora. _

***

“Hey, uh. Wildcat?”   
“Yeah?”

Scorpia glances around as they walk, hearing the crunch of their feet, noticing thow the old dirt has changed into metal, eyebrows rising in mild concern. Her space suit had a special opening to let her sidecut to pop through the helm, a typical loving touch from Entrapta, “ You know I would never, ever, doubt you but…. But Are we sure about, eh, any of this?”

“Nope.”

“This place is creepy, dark, old and we have no…. No… no idea what Adora sent us after, hahaha--” She laughs nervously swiping at some of the sparkly specks that float around, “ _ Wonderful!!” _

After the outburst of concern, they return to silence and their walk, Scorpia unable to take her eyes off the sword hanging at Catra’s hip, and the cat far too on edge to make small talk. But Scoria’s curiosity gets the best of her, “I,... I know that you probably don’t wanna talk -- And I totally Understand! -- but, Adora gave you the sword-”

  
“It's a paperweight. It doesn’t work for me-- I am not She-ra,” The Horde Lorde speaks harshly, not looking at Scorpia, instead on edge about the whole alien-planet-place, abruptly stopping the princess. Scorpia can see the muscles of the cat tense, hands clenched into fists.

“Eh. It’s okay! You are, much much better than She-ra!” Scorpia laughs tapping the tips of her pincers in her attempt to diffuse the situation, “We do not, do not, need her anyw--”

“Without She-ra, we do not stand a chance.” Catra admits stopping to take a look over the edge of the destroyed ship, sure she is catching some movement down there. Her hand traces over the metal, now noticing the specks around them, “We will need a miracle.”

“Yeah but, like, there’s the princess allia--”

“They will execute me on sight!” She snaps, snarling at Scorpia. She stops, and instead turns to pinching the bridge of her nose, growling. Scorpia holds her pincers up in surrender, Catra exhales, and lowers her arm after a short pause.It's an option she does not want to take. It would be an immediate sentence, “I will… consider it. Okay? If whatever we find here is of no use. Deal?”

“Deal!” She smiles at Catra who gives a sigh out, immediately taking a spring to her step as she retakes their walk 

She would take over the exchange with the slightest hint of a smile. Scorpia had always been with her, ever since Adora left. The princess had been a close confidant, particularly during and after she overthrew Hordak and Shadow Weaver, always by her side to remind her to not be too harsh, to not be too bad, though she only could do so much to curve the aggressiveness in the feline’s blood. It had been years, but the scars never were erased, the thorn in her heart seemingly eternal.

Reminiscing about the past, Catra loses track of Scorpia for a split second. It was long enough for the scorpion to fade through the floor, screaming as she clips through the metal. Catra gasps, “Scorpia!” 

She runs over, sliding on her knees and… stopping. She stares at the floor where the princess has gone down. It seemed like the floor was intact, “Scorpia?”

“I am O-okay!! Gosh, that was -- that was quite a tumble, wasn’t it?!” The scorpion is laughing nervously, “Okay, never mind, I think I hurt my ankle.”

Catra’s gears turn. She puts her hand onto the floor, pushing her hand through to see the rippling effects over the surface, “...Hey, Scorpia? I think this place is magic.”

“Magic?” The scorpion’s voice rings from under the floor, “Magic, in Krystis?”

“Seems more likely than we thought.” Catra pokes her head in, her upper body going through to see Scorpia on the floor below, rubbing her ankle, “Hang tight. I will get you out.” 

The cat pokes her head back to her floor, meeting another feline’s face, snarling at her. 

***

“ _ You like magic right?” Catra had thought, “Help me save Etheria. It's full of magic, you will be able to live peacefully there.” _

_ “Help you?” The large cat tilted its head, mane turning blue, “Are you even sure of what you want help with?” _

  
  


Returning to the ship was a cinch with Scorpia propped up on the large magic cat with a few extra inches so as to be strong enough to carry the muscle of the group. Entrapta welcomed them with open arms, taking Scorpia along to the infirmary for one of her bots to patch her right up. Catra was far too happy to get out of the space suit, quick to throw her shoes off and red jacket on. 

Catra scratches her cheek, sighing before sullenly taking a seat at the captain’s chair to rest dropping her head back into the chair. It reminds her of her throne back in the Fright Zone.   
“ _ The sword. It is the first one’s technology. It is them who destroyed my home.” _

“Yeah, well, they destroyed my home too.”

_ “This Adora.”  _ Melog lays down by her, purring softly as it seems to sift through Catra’s memories. It was an intrusion. One she did not like, nor welcome and the way it says Adora’s name makes Catra wrinkle her nose,  _ “Is she your home?”  _

She thinks, her thumb brushing over the golden pin she used to close the jacket Adora had given her. It still smells like Adora, and she can’t help but thank the heavens for it. IIt was why the horde lord had worn it since that day, and it made her speak before thinking more on that day, “You could say that.”

The Fright Zone had never been a home. 

_ “Will you save the planet, the Etheria, for your home?” _ _   
_ “I don’t know if I will be able to,” She slings her knees over the armrests, crossing her ankles as she stabs the sword between her knees, "But I will die trying."

Melog became her shadow after their encounter. It was always roaming around the corner, yowling or mirroring her mannerism. Sometimes it was more vivid than others, at others it seemed more cat than ancient being. It gave her comfort similar to Scorpia’s company.

When they arrived in Etheria, Catra split off from Scorpia and Entrapta. While the other two were tasked with preparing their men and military force for the arrival of Prime, Catra had to make her way to Crystal Castle. Scorpia was not happy, but she entrusted Melog to keep Catra safe.

With a backpack, the Sword of Protection and Melog, Catra must venture into the woods and retrace an old path. The path that started this all. She remembered it so perfectly. The skiff, the crash, Adora’s face when she woke up.Vividly, she could see Adora leaving that day, never to return, leaving her to her fate with the deepest of thorns.

The thorn she adored the most, a private punishment she never let go. While she searched for ways to reel Adora back to the Horde, to her territory and domain, Catra was acutely aware of the poison the thorn carried. The grief it caused was her favorite souvenir from Adora’s escape. Her abandonment.

_ “That does not sound healthy.” _

The Cat hisses ignoring Melog, entering the castle, careful and slow. She knew that this place tried to kill her and Adora last they entered, many springs ago. So she approaches with caution, pulling out the Sword of Protection and taking a stand in the central platform, Melog sitting stalking around her feet before taking a seat. Catra has to think back, “Password must be She-ra or Eternia. Hey, Light Hope. Bet you missed me.” 

The hologram shaped like a woman wills itself into existence, “Catra.”

“Yes, that’d be me.” She gives a gesture with her chin, as if greeting Light Hope, ”I am sure you can tell that I don’t have good news, so I will cut to the chase: Adora was captured by some insane alien overlord, Horde Prime, who I am sure you heard plenty about from Adora about. He is on his way to destroy Etheria, and Adora sent me here, in her stead, to salvage the whole damn place.”

“I only respond to Adora.”

“I got the damn Sword, do you want to watch Etheira burn!?” Catra asks, swiping a hand, gesturing to the door. Reminding Light Hope of the innumerable life forms out there, “Prime will kill everyone. Melog is the last of their planet, and he was the only thing left when Prime  _ failed _ . You think Etheria will survive?”

Light Hope stares down at her, “To give you power would be a liability. Adora--”

“Adora was compromised,” Catra snaps, “And you are out of options.”

They stare down one another. Light Hope’s loveless eyes do nothing to Catra. She had grown up glaring back at disappointment. It was nothing new, and she was immune to it. The defiance to her gaze, the tense ears and tail -- Light Hope knew that she was not lying. She had seen and studied Catra when Adora was training. Stubborn, reckless, chaotic, and above all troubled. “You are a liability.” Light Hope flickers out of sight.

“I will stay here till you give me a chance,” Catra snarls, at the empty room, “Adora is trapped. I will do anything to get her back! Give me a temporary code! Just a bit-- Let me help, just this once!”

“.... Light Hope?”

***

She placed her sleeping roll in the central room in a corner where the walls seemed to meet. Lighting a small fire to warm a can of ration food,she dejectedly ate, sharing a bit with Melog who takes up the spot next to the Sword. It was laid out, locked in a scabbard Entrapta had put together for Catra. The feline feels defeated, more than she has in a while. To come out here and being denied was infuriating.

_ “You care much for your home.” _

“Uh?” it takes her a moment, “Oh, Adora. Yeah. Guess I do.”

_ “Why is that? Your memories have much hate for her. No, anger. _ ”

“I have a lot of anger for a lot of people,” She replies, laying back to watch the embers turn to ashes, “You would have to be more specific.”

_ “Why does the anger for her seem worse?” _

All she can think of is that it isn’t anger. She tucks her face against the high collar of the jacket, suddenly realizing that Adora’s scent is gone. Of course it would be, after so many days, many hikes and fights. Yet that seemed like the last offense the cat could take. She rolls onto her back, staring at the crystalline roof, “Adora was a childhood friend, the only one I had. She took me in when I was alone, and it felt like she was the only one who tried to understand me.”

Catra shrugs, clenching and unclenching her claw, watching the nails retract and expand in the motion, her second nature, “She left me to be a hero. To save Etheria or whatever. Went off to greener pastures. So I set out to burn that world she loved, to prove I was better than whatever she was looking for out there. I overthrew Shadow Weaver, then Hordak. I became the new ruler of the Fright Zone, put out every rebellion, every insurgent. Won every battle.”

“When Prime made it to Etheria, we thought he would take us all out right away. But he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get what he wanted. Instead of siding with the Princess Alliance, I stood my ground. I refused to just be part of whatever Adora wanted me to join.”

_ “Pride?”  _

“Ego too. I wanted Adora to… only see me. No one else. I kinda got that when we were stranded,” She sets her hands over her stomach, thinking of how happy she was on that deserted planet where she and Adora were alone. The nights and day melted together, along with their space. She missed it terribly the peace it had given her. She wished she had never left the island, “It seems stupid in hindsight. All of it. It may cost me Adora.”

_ “You will save her.”  _ Melog lowers its head to doze off,  _ “I am certain.” _

The reassurance makes her feel something, a pang of some emotion she had not felt in a long while. She moves her eyes off the flame to see the magical being resting. Only then does she decide to close her eyes and try to rest.

***

“Catra!!” 

Adora runs up, nudging Catra with a playful grin, “Did you seriously steal Kyle’s ration bars?”

“What? You hate the brown ones, I thought I could get you some gray ones!” She offers the bar to Adora, who takes it and immediately starts to unwrap it, taking a big bite out of it. Adora gives such a content hum, shoulders scrunching up in the simple delight. 

They both sit on their favorite ledge, sharing the snack, whispering about who knows what. The Fright Zone was their kingdom, and they the future rulers. They were ready to take on the world, stand side by side against every single princess out there. Just the two of them, till the end of the world.

As Adora peers down to her bar it seems the Fright Zone melt away, her memory swimming with the years that followed. It was all a blur of jumping from one goal to the next. From objective to objective with nothing but the will but to do what was expected of her. The sword, Light Hope, Glimmer and Bow- She sees Brightmoon rise and then nearly collapse as the war with the Horde and Prime starts to take a toll. The supplies wane, the morale crumbles, even She-ra could not fix that. It was a rollercoaster of fights, of scars, of flashes of the new horde lord, Catra. She-ra was not enough, much less feeble Adora.

Adora had already been in that fight for so long, even She-ra’s stamina had depleted to her last ditch efforts, now carelessly swiping at Horde Soldiers with reckless abandonment. The only thing that could break her focus was the familiar voice that called her from behind: “Hey, Adora~”

She turns instinctively, an action that costs her a direct hit from Catra’s second in command, Scorpia. The princess grabs She-ra and throws her in Catra’s general direction before going back to her troops to aid in the battle. Her unawareness cost that town, she knows it.

She-ra collapsed at Catra’s feet, pushing up to lift her head and glare at Catra who wore her lopsided grin, a devilish twinkle in her eyes. Adora was pushing to her knee before her eyes stopped on the cape that decorated the feline’s left side. Her eyes widen, tracing the shape of Catra’s curves and the natural fall of Hordak’s cape.  _ Lord Hordak’s Cape.  _ Her blood went cold.

She got so used to the cape. Always so perfectly clean, prim, vain despite the torn trims of it. It shows Catra’s flair and pride, like wearing a beast’s pelt after slaying it. Every time she saw the cape, she was hit with a pang of anger and disappointment that made her sick to the stomach.

Her hands had grabbed the cape, swung Catra against the floor in blind rage with plenty of force even when the cape detached from the shoulder perch. It was a particularly fearsome fight, and while the details escaped her, she recalled the aftermath perfectly as well as the face of betrayal painted over the cat’s bloodied face.

Catra had shredded her side, shoulder, back, arms, as well as a specially deep gash to her ankle that prevented her from walking properly. Such was the damage, Glimmer and Bow urged her not to transform back, afraid the injuries would be far too great for small, weak Adora, stranding her in She-ra’s borrowed body. 

That night she stood in front of the mirror. It was the first time she had ever seen She-ra’s reflection. She explored her jaw line with her finger tips, the valleys of her muscle that showed even through the bandages, the long hair that seemed to glow in the dark, the bumps of her abdomen. The mess she had left this loaned shell in was infuriating. Touching the same spots she feels the gashes, the bruises and the pain. She-ra did not scar, Adora did. She always paid the price, and the one who came to collect the debt was always Catra. The only one who knew how to make her pay. Her hand is tense, splaying over her abdomen, remembering Catra’s sneer, her prowl. 

She closes her eyes, thinking of that image. Horde Lord Catra, punishing her for her betrayal, her crime, her fingertips shaky, lowering down her abdomen, past the hem of her - She-ra’s -shorts. 

When they finally met on that planet, Adora was unsure of what to feel. She did not feel the guilt she did when Catra left her encased in She-ra’s form for weeks, but a different sort of anger. The years of suffering Catra’s pride had caused, the villainy and war crimes, the people she had snuffed out -- all of it was impossible to forget. And still, her smirk, her small gestures, it melted her. It made her lower her guard, accepting the danger that it meant to climb on top of Catra. 

The warmth of the cave contrasted with Prime’s ship. 

The halls long, empty yet filled with soulless clones, an endless wave of repetition. The plan was for her to attract Prime’s attention and create enough space for Catra to creep around and land a killing blow. They both underestimated the sheer amount of clones at Prime’s disposition and she was overwhelmed.

She remembers little, but she can imagine it as she looks in the direction of the echo of Prime’s voice. Her mind can perfectly recreate the scene, how Catra had been caught, and had been about to fight, to be victor over Prime, only to be shown a defeat, bruised Adora, knelt by the pool of green fluid, wrists bound behind her back. The fear in Catra’s eyes would be undeniable, the shrinking pupils, those drooped feline ears that were so expressive--- There must have been an exchange between Catra and Prime, but all Adora could do was hang her head, dizzy from the beating she took, a beating she had never taken as She-ra. It was a crushing defeat, and it made her realize too late that she was not invincible and it was painfully obvious in the bloodied nose reflected on the green pool.

“Adora!”

“Catra. Run.”

That was the last she remembers before being thrown out. Everything turns into a green filter, the shocks and jolts that felt like death, a clear reminder of her failure.

***

Catra wakes up in cold sweat, screaming, kicking, clawing. She somehow ends on her feet, leaning on a pillar gripping the back of her neck as the flashes of green continue. Her claws dig into the crystal enough to screech past the first inch of material. She bit her tongue in her tantrum, and it tasted like copper. Her eyes search, hearing Melog in the distance, buzzing and meowing cryptically as it tries to approach. And another voice. She thinks it's Adora, distorted by whatever static crawls over her skin. It’s overwhelming, she feels it every muscle, it makes her fur bristle. Everything and nothing, all in a deafening instant. 

“ _ Shut up!”  _ She snarls, spitting blood in the primal screech, nail deep in her own neck. Melog backpedals, watching her pants and attempting to refocus her eyes. She sinks to her knees again, curling up to the pillar. She presses her forehead on the cool surface, tears rolling down her face. It lasted a short breath. Few things made Catra cry, in fact, she had not shed a tear in heaven knows how long. She gently tapped her forehead on the crystal, bringing her bloodied claws away from her neck and onto the surface, still growling and baring her teeth in the gesture of having her memories turned upside down and inside out.

When she opens her eyes, the reflective surface grants her a quick flash of Adora’s defeated eyes before the flash green, and it makes her throw herself back and away, onto her tail. Her heart bucks, pounding as she brings her hand up to her neck, “Adora.”

Resolve returns to her, defiance reignited from the ashes. She stands up, pulling out the sword from its scabbard, throwing the case away and moving to the platform again, “Light Hope! Come out! I just wanna talk!” She holds her arms out, welcoming an expected rapturous punishment. 

When all that follows is silence, Catra roars up at the mural of She-ra, baring her fangs, “I made it all the way here! Wounded, injured, against all the odds and the risks! I hate these woods, these damned magical entities! But you are out of options! Will you let Eternia burn out of DAMN pride!” She raises the sword, pointing it at the mural, “I will not leave till you give me access to She-ra! If you want Adora back, you will need to trust me!”

She brings the sword to both hands,” For the honor. Of . Grayskull!”

When it does not work, she does so again, “For the honor of grayskull!”

In the silence she snarls, “ _ For the honor of Grayskull!!’ _

She repeats this gesture for hours. Over, and over. Till her arms burn and her throat is torn. She collapses finally, burnt out on her stamina. She leans on the sword, stabbing it downward, she presses her head into the blue runestone, “I have…. Never needed someone. Not Shadow Weaver, Not Hordak. Not Prime nor any princess. I never needed magic. Never needed raw power. All I had was me. My cunning, and my will to make things happen. If I am twisted and wrong for spitting in the face of the world who played me dirty, then I am. I am not here to argue or excuse myself to a fuckin code,” She pushes up, “But now. I need She-ra. I need Adora.”

“Let me help. I am no hero, but let me help this once. For her. For Etheria. “ She lifts herself off the ground and looks at the sword, inhaling one more time.

  
  


“For the Honor of Grayskull!”

***

When she returned to the Fright Zone, Scorpia gave her a huge hug, and Entrapta joined. The two had been busy, and the troops were as ready as they could be. Yet her order was simple. She would be going to Brightmoon to try and negotiate, leaving Scorpia incharge of the Fright Zone.

She told them about She-ra, how she had earned her power in order to save Etheria. That was all she needed to convince Queen Glimmer they had to join forces to face Horde Prime.

Catra had a few things to do before she left. Tea with Scorpia, a quick visit to Entrapta, apologies to Lonnie as well as her Force Captain promotion. And lastly, a talk with Shadow Weaver.

The old hag had been part of the prison system since Catra overthrew her. A permanent fixture to Catra’s twisted ego. She made it a point to come down to feed her herself, rub salt on the wound. 

This time, she came with contraband. Shadow Weaver’s tea, some biscuits, as well as her ration bars. She set them down silently as the old witch stared at her through the mask, “You have the sword. Adora must have truly given up on you.”

  
“She is not dead, not yet. Don’t worry.” Her tail coils around her waist, under the hem of the red jacket as she crosses her arms, “Much depends on what you can tell me about Etheria and magic. So pick your words carefully before I decide to test this new She-ra thing on you.”

“The sword is useless.”

“Not for me, are you willing to gamble?” She unsheathes the sword, pointing it at Shadow Weaver, “Now speak. The world is about to explode if you don’t, Adora included.” 

She speaks cool, collected. She knows the only one Shadow Weaver cares for is Adora, and Catra made peace with that, oh so long ago. Adora is the only one Shadow Weaver would speak for, so its an effective tool.

“Then, if it is true and you are the new She-ra, then maybe we have a chance,” she removes her mask, setting it to the side. It was a rare sight, one that Catra was not used to. Shadow Weaver brings the cup of tea to her burnt lips, “This planet, it is full of magic. She-ra is the only one who can, in a way, reset it. To do this, you will need a Failsafe wired into Mystacor. It may kill you, but She-ra should be able to withstand it. Take the failsafe to the crystal castle, activate the Heart of Etheria, and its magical power will be enough to destroy Prime where he stands. Only She-ra can hold the failsafe, anyone else will die, but override the Heart of Etheria and effectively detonate with similar force.”

“Can you remember all of that, Catra, or is it too much information?”

Catra scoffs, an ear flicking at the clink of the mug on the platter, “I will manage. If not, I can always ask. Not like you are going anywhere.”

“That much is true,” She chews on a cookie, watching Catra, After she chews her snack, she sighs out her nose, and a curled grin lifts the remains of her left lip, “You grew into a fine woman. Strong, resilient. You remind me of myself, with your willingness to act no matter the price.”

“I am too old for manipulation, Shadow Weaver. You lost your charm over me ages ago.”

“Is that why you came to say your farewells?” She lets that hang in the air, watching the shock that only shows in the flaring fur of Catra’s jaw where the old tufts of discolored fur should be. Those tufts that the cat had outgrown like so many things, “I did not take you for the nostalgic type, Catra.”

“I am not, you never gave me anything to be nostalgic to about” 

“Oh, but I did.”

_ Adora. _

The horde lord tilts her head to stretch her neck, trying to sta indifferent to Shadow Weaver’s raised eyelid, “I had to get information out of you. And to say my piece.”

“Brightmoon will execute you on sight.”

Catra shakes her head, ignoring Shadow Weaver entirely, “I wanted to thank you. If it hadn’t been for all the shit you did to me, I would not be able to take a stand today. I wouldn’t have had the manpower or jurisdiction to do what I want, to rally my army against Prime. So, thank you.”

  
_ “You are welcome.” _

***  
  


That night, Catra climbed to the old tower, taking a seat in the ledge where her and Adora grew up, chewing on a gray ration bar. 

The Fright Zone had changed so little under her. It was less grim, more things made it through the lines of contraband. A bit more freedom for cadets -- but she was as bad as the ghosts of her past. She knew it, it was on purpose. How she coped and continued on. 

“Hey Wildcat!”

Catra’s ear lifts, but she has no need to turn to watch Scorpia take a seat by her, “Oh, hello.”

“Wow! It's… a nice night, ain’t it! Nice moons. Nice wind. Nice, nice, nice--”

“Scorpia, what do you want?” Catra raises an eyebrow. She snorts and tips her head onto her shoulder, away from Scorpia, “You know, the Princess Alliance was your idea. Are you really going to try and talk me out of it, now?”

“Not at all! Just… wanted to talk with you.” Scorpia shrugs looking out onto the Fright Zone. There was always a certain beauty to Scorpia, and her kindness had a way of softening Catra a bit. It makes the cat think that if Adora wasn’t the one who started all this, she would consider Scorpia as more than a friend. She did not doubt that she would miss Scorpia the most, “You are really going out there, uh? To Brightmoon, and whatnot. Going to be a real hero!”

“Yeah, that about covers it.” Catra had placed her eyes on the skyline again, knowing full well Scorpia was trying not to cry, and deep down, so was she. She did not have the courage to meet Scorpia halfway, so Catra turned away.

“Thank you, for --” She fidgets with her pincers, watching Catra, “For giving me my kingdom back.”

  
She wants to tell Scorpia that she shouldn’t thank her. She should have done it the day she became Horde Lord. Catra should have immediately handed it over instead of pursuing the overtake of Etheria, the destruction of the princesses. She kept the Kingdom till there was no use of it for her. She wanted to tell Scorpia everything. Catra wanted to come clean, say she had been a terrible friend, to hold Scorpia’s face and give her a genuine smile, tell her thank you for every moment to stop Catra from doing something brutal and unnecessary, for acting as the moral compass she never had. Catra cannot say any of those things, instead she shrugs.

“You are welcome.”

  
***  
  


After packing a single bag, she enjoyed some coffee in her room. Catra was sure that Brightmoon would not spare some beans for her, so she cherished the cup while she checked things. A shower after dinner and she thought she would be able to sleep.

Catra stops by the sink after her shower, checking the tufts of her jaw, and the mane that was freshly out of control post shower. After tilting her chin every which way, she decides to trim the tufts a bit, knowing she would probably not get to cut them in whatever prison she was in. She touches the tufts, remembering the gray ones that used to grow from there. She knew they were an inheritance of misery, but since she did not know her mother, there was no hurt attached to the growth of fur.

She dries her hair some more, stopping to see the sheathed sword and the red jacket that was hanged from the frame of her bed. Her hand runs over the red fabric, lingering over the hem of it, feeling the texture. It was soft after the fresh wash. Catra could not ignore that carrying it was a death sentence, knowing that Glimmer would think she had been the executioner of Adora, like she had wanted to be for years. Still, she could not deny that she could leave this jacket behind.

She hears Shadow Weaver’s warning  _ You will be executed on sight.  _ She picks up the jacket and looks over it, though she stops when there’s a buzz in her ear. She cups the cat ear with her free hand, grumbling and laying down to close her eyes, fingers tight around the fabric. 

\---

“Catra!!” 

Adora nudges Catra, giving her a wide honest grin, the kind that makes Catra snort, “Did you seriously steal Kyle’s ration bars?”

“What? You hate the brown ones, I thought I could get you some gray ones!” She offers the bar to Adora, who takes it with no hesitation, starting to unwrap it, and taking a big bite out of it. Adora gives such a content hum. Catra can’t wait to someday show her the contraband food the soldiers sneak around.

Climbing up the tower was her second favorite thing, because Adora was her favorite. Hearing the blonde’s rambles about her plans of rebuilding the Fright Zone with her were adorable memories ingrained deep. She was positive, kind, noble -- the kind of kid who did not fit in with the ranks. While Catra stood out for her malice and feral nature, Adora was known to be the one who patiently eased sense into her.

Catra learned she was meant to be Adora’s pet fairly young. Shadow Weaver never quite loved her, or cared for her really, and that lack of validation burned her fairly young; she wasn’t a child, she was just an accessory for the favorite child, and Weaver’s wording, always reminding Adora to control  _ it  _ better. Catra tried to deny it, fight it, and remind Shadow Weaver she was a force of nature too. But her features and instinct betrayed her. She could not hide her fur, her claws, her tail, or her teeth -- So she wore them like a badge of honor. She was a pet gone wild, 

When Adora left the Horde, Catra faced the brunt of that hate and disapproval. Had it not been for connection to Adora, Shadow Weaver would have done her in much sooner as if it was her fault Adora had defected. And still, Catra bared her fangs every inch of the way there.

While the rebellion tried to do its thing, Catra pulled strings in the background within the Horde. It took her little to play Shadow Weaver into her hand, take the title of Force Captain and get close to Hordak. On good nights she could remember the crunch of Shadow Weaver’s mask under her fingers.

Destroying Hordak was an entire league of his own.

She remembered looking in her reflection after a shower. She explored her jaw with her finger tips and the tufts that were there made her frown. It was the taint her birth mother had left, the only medal from whatever family she had before playing house pet for Adora, a reminder that her feline genetics were impossible to hide and derived from some sort of unbearable stress.

Her mind wanders and her nails deploying before her mind catches up as she pushes the gray fur. A sharpness returns to her eyes, hating her wild appearance, hating what they meant as a child, what it meant to someone was expected to play coy and lay submissive.

She bares her fangs, her nails digging into the tuft and cutting it in one brutal swipe that was reckless enough to cut her skin and start a stream of blood. She shakes her head out to clear the pain away gripping the sink and tilting her jaw to see the now cut fur. It was sloppy but she had no proper equipment-- determined she tilts her chin the other way, brings her claws and with the smallest of hesitations, gives herself another swipe, taking out the other side. This time she stays bowed over the sink, hissing in pain, eyes clenched closed. The gray tufts were soaking in the droplets, casting them aside into the trash before running the tap to clean her face off. 

As she splashed the last bit of water, she combed her hands through her hair, pushing it back and straightening out in the same motion. She inhales, and opening her eyes to stare at her reflection, exhales. With the new reassurance of her actions, she heads out to wait in Hordak’s sanctum. 

She did not do more than startle him the first time, a warning to how he underestimated her. His demise was much, much later, and much much messier. It was when she took his cape and made it her trophy, a prize she showed off to Adora on every given chance.

Pity she did not have it on her when Adora and her met on that planet. She would have gifted it to her after their first time in the cave. She would have loved to wrap her in the cape, promise the stars and the universe, Etheria on a silver platter for the blonde to enjoy as she wished. 

But like always, she did not say more than she needed. 

Her voice was enough to convince Adora they could take Prime on. She was so sure, so willing to fight Prime to save Etheria with Adora, regardless of the danger. She was greedy, reckless. A liability.

When she saw Adora defeated, knelt by the pool of green. Her heart sank, turned away from her fight with Prime. Whatever he said made no noise,her eyes were on Adora who had looked directly at the camera, at  _ her.  _ Time stopped or went too fast. She can’t tell, but it's irrelevant.

“Adora!”

“Catra. Run.”

That was the last she remembers before turning to run, snarling a last time at Prime who laughed at her juvenile response. Everything turns into a red filter, anger blinding her escape and her failure.

She wakes up with a jump, groaning and holding the back of her neck. Those were her memories. Catra knew as much, and that was probably why it didn’t hurt much, but the burning was back from the center of the back of her neck to her tailbone. Catra sits up, blindly yanking the sword down from its perch to cradle it close. Her eyes landing on the blue tint remind her of someone. Shaking her head, she decides to leave.

***

Catra did not have it in her heart to say goodbye. She got on a skiff, stretching her hand to caress Melog before it even reappeared. With that, Catra was setting out to Brightmoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I could not get the story out of my mind so here we are. "The Things We Never Said: Into the Heart" (Part1) is the first half of Catra's story. 
> 
> Special thanks to Luthor (here on AO3) for being my first ever Beta Reader, this would not have not been a thing without their help and support, so make sure to drop by their Works to have some good good reads!
> 
> Hang tight, we will have the next up in a week or so ;)


	4. Into the Heart PT 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra races against time and Adora to save Etheria.

Catra arrives at Brightmoon and though she considers multiple possibilities, she opts for using Melog’s magical abilities to infiltrate the castle. It's easy enough to patiently prowl and slip between guards when you have an invisibility cloak in the form of a large feline.

When she makes it into the throne room, Queen Glimmer isn’t there, so she lets herself in, taking in the architecture of the structure, as well as casting a glance at the princess’s runestone, visible through a window. The place has certainly seen better days, and there’s an unceremonious pile of supplies. She’s a bit lost in thoughts, wondering how close to collapsing the rebellion is when the door is pushed open.

“I need to be alone!” Glimmer is striding in, hands up in the air as the door slams shut, “No one is allowed to bother me. I must think.”

Queen Glimmer is as grand as she could be in her approach to her thirties, though Catra dare said _she_ looked better than the queen. While the Lord Horde had had a handful of rough years, Glimmer looked like she had not slept in weeks, tired dark eyes on the floor as she sullenly sat on her throne, alone. The horde soldier knew the face of someone spiraling into a flurry of doubt when she saw one, and all Glimmer does to appease herself is rub her forehead, obviously distraught. 

Catra takes her place at the bottom of the throne’s stairs, taking a knee in front of Glimmer and holding her hands up in surrender. In her hand was a balled up white handkerchief. She takes a moment to steady herself and breathe, before allowing Melog to make them both visible.

The moment she appears, the queen has sprung to action, teleporting and holding the sharp edge of her magic staff to Catra’s neck. 

“Wow, is this how the rebellion welcomes guests?” Catra chuckles, raising her eyes to meet the tempest of Glimmer’s. She opens her fist showing the white flag, “I’d put the staff down, Sparkles, unless you want to compete with me on the most heinous war crimes.”

“ _Catra.”_ The staff presses tighter, forcing Catra to stand, dangerously close to, drawing blood

“I am here to forge an alliance”

“How can I trust you?”

“You either do or lay down for Prime to wipe us both out— Plus I walked in with an invisible cat--”

“Excuse me what-” Glimmer raises her hands as if stopping Catra, “Your what?”

Melog meows, nuzzling into Catra’s leg, getting Glimmer’s attention. “Invisible cat. What, you don’t got one?” She shrugs lowering her hands, “If I wanted to do damage I already would have. Am I the type to give chances, Queen?”

“So you had the chance to slit my throat and you did not?” She hesitates and lowers the staff, letting the Horde Lord stand without a blade at her neck, “You have gone soft.”

“Priorities move around, got some more pressing matters at hand.” 

When her eyes fall on the red jacket and the sword at Catra’s hip, however, the staff is right where it had been, making Catra raise her hands again, “ _YOU KILLED ADORA.”_

 _“_ Not yet.” Her cackle is cut short by the cut of the staff at her shoulder, a little warning that sobers her, “You left Adora to die on a stranded planet. I saved her, and then we decided to take out Horde Prime. Needless to say, we failed. I am here to ask for your help. I want to save Adora and Etheria.”

“Now?! And you expect me to believe you?!”

“If I thought I could take out Prime alone, I would not be here,” She pushes the staff away from her neck, “I got the Sword of Protection, and our best bet is to get to the Failsafe. Hear me out, I will come clean with all I know.”

It took little for Catra to fill in Glimmer, who admitted Bow and Mermista had been caught out in Salineas with the rebellion. She assured Glimmer they’d be back soon, given she had resigned the Horde to Scorpia, who knew an alliance was their only hope. With the two lords on the same page, Glimmer pinched the bridge of her nose. Melog has started to sniff at Glimmer who tried to shoo it off.

“You want me to take you to Mystacor to get a failsafe and with all this the princesses will have much more magic?” Glimmer crosses her arms, incredulous of Catra’s story, “How much magic?” 

“Enough to destroy Prime.” She says finitely, now standing tall in front of the queen.

“And if you are lying?” 

“I need to get to Mystacor and you are my only way there, the Kingdom of the Fright Zone is

under new jurisdiction. If I or Shadow Weaver lied, I would die and still release the Heart of Etheria’s magic. You win either way.”

The feline gestures to the throne room’s door, “I promise Scorpia will arrive at Brightmoon with reinforcements and your friends, regardless of what happens to me. All you need to do, Sparkles, is take me to Mystacor.”

***

Glimmer and Castaspella saw her last at the entrance of the sanctum that held the Failsafe, “Here it is. Don’t try anything funny.”

“I told you,” Catra shrugs, tucking a hand into the red jacket, “I am coming out with the failsafe or not at all.”

Melog yowls by her, concerned, red tinting the usual calm blue collar around its neck. It isn’t angry, it is scared, “ _You cannot-“_

She cups its face, in a hand, “Stay with Sparkles. Whatever happens, she will get you somewhere safe. When this is over, Etheria will be full of magic, and you can live happily.”

Catra kneels down, bumping foreheads with the worried Feline, “As I promised, yes?” _A new home for you._

She stands up as its mane returns to blue, looking to Glimmer. It hesitantly walks around the queen. Glimmer chances a smile, letting the feline purr under her hand as it settled by her side, “Take good care of Melog. They are a great travel company.”

Catra turns to head down the final hallway. “Catra,” Glimmer calls, and the cat looks over her shoulder, “... Good luck, Horde Scum.”

She offers her crooked grin, though there's a certain resignation to her eyes, “As if I need it.”

Catra can’t leave unless the failsafe is obtained or lost. Not that she cares about leaving or living for the matter, but she still hesitates when she sees the failsafe in all of its beauty. The chamber reminds her of the Crystal Castle, the splendid reflections twisting the lights of the flowing magic that rippled and bounded off every inch of the room. It's astounding and humbling, and for a second she forgets about Etheria, recalling the power this single room held, the possibilities it opened. If it was enough to take out Prime, what could it do in capable hands? She peers down at her hand, noticing her claws had extended. 

She clenches her first, raising her chin again to the magic swelling: this could end the war, both Prime and the Rebellion. She could win. Finally, after a decade.

_Catra._

She shakes her head, bringing the sword out of the sheath, checking over the blade. Her reflection stares back at her, though it returns her a glimpse of the green eyes of Adora, her head flashing in a flare of pain. She holds her head, _Adora._ Etheria be damned, Catra knew Adora was still trapped, still chipped and being roped like an attack dog. She remembers the defeated pain in those ocean eyes, and she shakes out her head, raising the sword, “ _For the honor of Grayskull!”_

_***_

The sandy dunes. Again. She and Adora had sat there for days, enjoying the setting sun, watching the rising moons, and witnessing the stars Despondos had hid from them for so long. This dream felt unsettling. The memory of having nothing but Adora by her had haunted Catra in the sweetest of ways, like a passing shadow. In this memento, she did not have that comfort, it was illusionary, faux, null -- something was wrong. Something was not fitting right.

While she and Adora had been swimming in a shared consciousness while they shared the duty of She-ra. The moons did not glisten like they did on their lonely planet. They seemed gray, uncharacteristically pale, and the sand glistened with the same blue light Catra had learned to associate with the first ones, with those of Adora’s past -- The blood that compelled the blonde to do better than her past. This was definitely a shared vision. 

“You think they are good? Down there I mean.” Adora asked, cleaning the Sword of Protection.

“Yeah, they always have been,” Catra looked over her claws, using the edge to cut a thread from her leggings. The tears and wear were starting to show.

“Catra, are you even listening?” The blonde casts a glare towards said cat, who raised an eyebrow without looking at Adora, “You never have listened, have you?”

She rolls her eyes in response, getting up with a groan, starting to walk past Adora to avoid the conversation, “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It's not like it matters.”

“I should not have to explain any of this to you!” As she crosses Adora’s path, the warrior grabs her tail. In the arc of the swing, the pain of her tail muscles sear, and she hits the snow. Her eyes focus and she rolls away as She-ra brings down both fists. The cat twists onto her feet, baring her teeth.

“Adora!” She notices She-ra’s outfit, one she hadn’t seen in a long time, which makes her turn to see herself; an old Force Captain outfit. _This must have been years ago--_ The red vein like protrusions wrapped all over Adora’s body tips her off onto what this memory was. She-ra roars and takes a running charge at her. Catra jumps and lands behind her, nimbly turningl and immediately pouncing onto her back, “Adora, **you** never listened!”

Her claws tear down across her back, disengaging by kicking off Adora after the damage is done. Once they have separated and Adora has collapsed onto her knee reaching back to her back, the lack of veins catches her attention. She looks around to the floating stones, the glistening runestone in the distance, and the distinct sound of Horde tanks. _The battle of brightmoon._ Her tail goes limp recalling the whole battle in a sudden cascade of emotions, a split second in which Adora tackles her into a wall, screaming, “You are the one who never listened to me! I tried so many times to reach you!”

The impact jolts her, and she slips off the wall she had made a fresh crater and onto the table of Prime’s ship. She-ra’s hands wrapped around her neck, tight, squeezing, like the last time they were on the ship. Her suit is off mostly, and so is She-ra’s uniform. The intimacy and gentleness is not there, for once she feels a sudden pang of fear.

The grip is hard, almost enough to snap her neck, but She-ra doesn’t off her. The green fades, though Adora’s teeth are still bare, tears at the corners of her eyes, “You broke my heart, so many times, Catra, Prime is the only thing holding me together!”

She can’t speak, choked, but she swipes at Adora’s cheek, hard enough to draw blood and drop her. As She-ra pulls away, Catra pounces and tackles her. The two tumble down a dune, and when they stand, the Crimson Waste has filled their space. Catra hisses as she primes her claws, “You never wanted me! You just used me, because you needed a sidekick! Someone to do the dirty work for you!” She snarls and pounces forward, Adora simply catches her wrist.

“I wanted you! I told you!”

“After ten years of war!” She kicks her in the chest, hard enough to knock the air out of Adora.

They part, Catra lands on her feet and runs forward, tackling She-ra at hip level, enough to throw her back into a bed. Back at Brighmoon, She-ra is covered in bandages. _The memory of the bedroom after their fight, the injuries_ _match_. The realization of what Adora did to the nostalgia of an old lover, alone, wounded, and rejected hits her. In newfound rage, she takes She-ra’s face in her hands, nails digging into the skin. The fury in her reflective eyes pierces She-ra’s guilty blue orbs, they glow in the dark light of the Etherian moons, ”You wanted me when I won, when you were abandoned. You never wanted me. You wanted the importance of it. Of me.”

“Catra. No.” She raises her hands, “I only wanted Etheria to be safe for you -- for Us.” 

“All you ever did was what others wanted, and never once did you stop to think about you.” She roughly let’s go, sitting on Adora’s hips, “What do you want, Adora?”

Her voice is small, a gulp croaking a meager, “You.”

The cat drops her hands, staring at Adora incredulously, noticing how her eyes had roamed over the moon showered lord. Catra lowers her eyes onto herself, pinching the fabric between her fingers. She has the cape she stole from Hordak. It's her horde outfit, the one Adora had explored her rage and reject through. The blonde’s guilty indulgence and shame; her fantasy. 

“I said I am no hero. And you still gave me the job,” Catra splays her hands over the heroine’s abdomen, Adora gulps again, “The world can burn, Adora, all I ever wanted… it wasn’t power. You wanted Etheria for me. I wanted it for you.” The hand travels up, over her shoulder onto her neck as Catra lowers like a cat on the prowl to whisper over her ear, “But you gave me the job. You know I play an amazing villain. You want me to burn it all down for you, don’t you?”

She can feel Adora’s pulse hasten, not even She-ra can hide it. The disguise of grandness is not enough to hide what Catra was doing to her, “I can do that for you, princess. I can destroy it, without hesitation, in your name.”

“Catra, that’d --”

“Kill me. Yes. No one has stopped saying it.” The sharp teeth scrape the earlobe, her hands give Adora’s neck tight a firm squeeze, “I am a dead man walking, Adora. You know it, I know it, the Queen knows it.”

She kisses over her ear, nestling in there for a second remembering the sweet scent of Adora. The scent that had clung to the red jacket for a few days and kept her grounded. A purr escapes her, “If it saves you. I will do something good by you.” The cat feels Adora’s hand go up her body, “You like it. When I am the villain. It gives you a reason to hate me.”

As the Horde lord straightens out, Adora’s hands follow, not getting in the way as the cape is unclipped and dropped to the side, making a show of it draping down onto the floor of the princess’s alcove floor as she feels She-ra’s hands wrap around her hips. The warrior is big enough to make her feel tiny straddling her, and yet, she is in full control, throwing the mask like a tiara to the side, “And that’s your favorite thing isn't it? I am something you should not want, should not have.”

“Catra, Shut up-”

“What? Hasn’t someone read you since we shared a bunk?” She is undoing the zipper of her suit, Adora’s hands twitch, face red, obviously letting Catra’s word punish her and her undressing soothe the sting of the truth, “You miss the familiarity. What would your friends think? If they heard you touched yourself to me?”

Adora’s embarrassment makes her look away, opening a spot on her neck for Catra to bite and suckle. 

“Oh, Adora. You know, I am as bad as Shadow Weaver and Hordak,” she runs her tongue over the bite, feeling the strong hands start to work the suit down. It's not like how they undressed her in the ship -- This was Adora. Her Adora. Ashamed, hurt, alone, and wanting nothing more than Catra to comfort her one last time, “I am not She-ra nor She-ra material, I have been lying through my teeth, but I am glad you found something better than me.”

“Noone could replace you, Catra. Please. Don’t make it sound like--” The suit is being peeled off her skin, and she feels the cool air, the air Adora felt that night undressing. She wanted to tell her that Catra was a memory, a haunting one, a prowling one, the only past she could not leave. That yes, she was a guilty indulgence, but also the only thing that kept her alive through the war.

“Like what? Like I’m your worst mistake?“ She kisses her again, her hands grabbing the fabric on Adora’s chest, balling it up, ripping it in her claws. She doesn’t want to let go. Never again, “I’m going to let it go down in a blaze, just for you.”

She feels Adora inhale deep, try to reel in a moan, a moan that should have been eased out by her own fingertips, but instead, her mind played along, let Catra steal it and make it hers. It was hard to tell what a memory was, what was hopeful thinking, and what was them, refusing to be separated. It doesn’t matter, they are both too enthralled by each other, by the fear of this being the last time. 

“You got something for me, don’t you?” She scrapes her fangs down onto her collar bone, chancing a bite, _Why do you always leave my suit at my hips?_ She wants to ask, but she’s a bit entertained by Adora nodding with a flush over her face and reaching over for that strap, not really needing to hear the answer. It’s a goddamn illusionary realm, but Catra finds it hilarious that of all of Adora’s wildest fantasies, this was it. 

The cat would get up and take it from the dresser, letting Adora sit up and rub her face, her neck and shoulder, an old nervous tick she had kept from the horde days. The blonde feels surreal, though she figures as much, especially when her eyes dart over and she gets a nice view of Catra’s lower back and the orange stripes that decorate her fur. Her hand reaches over, breaching the distance and Catra’s tail curls over her palm while the cat figures out the binds of the strap. It grounds her, the tail, the little appendage that showed just a bit of Catra’s true nature. She lets it move over her digits, feeling the fur bristle and relax to her touch. She brings it up to her face, gaining a glance from Catra.

It was She-ra, nuzzling her tail, cradling it in her hand with the most loving care there could be.

She would miss her the most. 

Catra lets her get her fill before approaching her, cupping her chin in a hand. No nails, just her thumb. Her voice is thick, slow, and it makes Adora close her eyes and tilt into her thumb, “You are too big. Be a doll. Get on all four on the bed, Adora.”

The blonde takes a second, her eyes opening to match Catra’s heterochromatic predatory glare. There’s so much in those reflective orbs. Even if this wasn’t her memory, her past, Adora could read every thought in Catra’s head through that pair of stars. It’s why she doesn’t hesitate to obey, to move and face the mattress, to lock her eyes on that set of hands that are too large to be her own, and to let Catra explore her thighs and ass. Her hands grip the bedding once she hears the purring behind her. She trusts Catra. She always has, as much as she pretended not to.

“Yeah, She-ra is big and all, I think I like Adora better,” She purrs with a short cackle, already fondling her. Adora bites her lips, a single hand exploring the space between her legs so meagerly covered by the shorts of She-ra’s uniform, “though I won’t miss a chance to mount She-ra, I am sure you won’t mind right?”

A firm squeeze makes Adora groans, but as the cat runs her mouth, she ends up looking over her shoulder spitefully at the Catra. “What?” She laughs at Adora, fangs flashing in the gesture, “Can’t a girl play with her food?”

Now it’s an exasperated groan. Catra leans down to bite her thigh, cutting off the annoyance and replacing it with a soft moan as Adora hangs her head. Her tongue trails over the tensing muscle, claws tracing up over the hem of the shorts, “Sorry I had to take off the leggings. I am taking a guess here… but you won’t mind if I let you keep your little princess get up , right?”

Of course, Catra would pick up on that. She shakes her head, bracing best she can for what follows. She feels the distinct cool of Catra’s claw, a single digit tracing up her thigh, into the inside of her legs. It feathers over her core, making her shudder, before retracing its steps, now with enough force to carefully cut the uniform a nice opening. With that, Catra is able to splay the fabric a bit to rub the heel of her palm into the warmth of Adora, “I will save this damn planet for you, Adora.”

The blonde princess lowers her head a bit, biting her lip, hands clenching into a fist. She moves her hand away, leaning in to give a long lick, pressing a kiss right after, “Is this what you imagined that night?”

She was pressing _every. Last. Button._ Adora exhales out her nose, focusing on Catra’s expert tongue that stays only a moment. The bed shifts, the feline’s knees match hers, followed by the distinct cool of the strap pressing against her already needy core, “If this is the last time I see you, I will make it count.” She leans over, her body barely big enough to press her bare chest onto the warrior’s back. Her hand snakes around Adora, holding her hips, her nails scraping up the abs, feeling the curves of the muscle, and breathing in the distinct mix of iron and a new dawn that clung to She-ra before biting the fabric. She’s a bit muffled but clear enough, “So how about I do you like you dreamed, Adora?”

It's an odd sensation, to have Catra holding her like this, like she could not get away. As if she ever wanted to escape, when she could have every inch of the punishment Catra had to give her. It starts with sharp nails scraping her down the front, shearing the uniform in one firm swipe. At the end of her travel, her digits splay She-ra, aligning and taking the plunge. She does not bother being patient, going right until their hips meet. Catra groans, fangs cutting into the fabric, melting into a purr. It rocks her to the core, it must be her own imagination going buck wild, matching with whatever Adora was revelling in, the princess shivering under her as she grinds her hips into Adora, feeling the tremble of bottoming out. 

Catra’s tail wraps around her partner’s thigh, purring louder as she starts to buck, ripping the fabric away, nestling her cheek against the now exposed skin. Adora whimpers under her, melting in the scratches and the nails dug into her thighs, lost in the feeling of Catra mounting her so perfectly, with practiced ease she should not have. 

The Horde Lord slowed for a second, giving quick successive bucks, panting as She-ra started to be more vocal, whimpers turning into resounding pleasure. She runs her fangs over Adora’s shoulder blade, starting to move a bit deeper, a hand travels up to grope her chest, fondle her stiff peak between her pointer and middle finger. She hears her name, somewhere in all the noise they are making. “Wait.”

She grunts and slows, Adora burying her face into the bedding while she tries to catch her breath, “Should I stop?”

She shakes her head, muttering into the bed “T- urn i’ ‘round--”

Catra blinks, her ears going red and not from their physical activity. Still she steps back, making it a point to pull out slow and painful. The noise Adora makes reignites her, especially when she sees the warrior collapse and struggle to flip over, red plastered over her face, half lidded eyes a pair of blue suns perfectly framed with wet golden locks, all but combusting for Catra’s return. The cat lowers herself, purring, nuzzling into her neck before chancing a lick over her jawline. A pair of strong hands takes her face and brings it up for a kiss, tongues mingling. 

The feline’s hand slides over Adora’s and down to her wrists, pinning them down at their hip level, both panting. Catra has to lick the mixed saliva off her lips as she reminds Adora of their game, pressing her hips against hers again, returning to where they left off in one calculated sway of her hips.

  
“Catra-!” Adora reclines her head with a loud moan, making Catra rumble with a possessive purr. Her tail brushes over their locked hands, her hips thrusting once more. Her nails are tightly gripping Adora’s wrists, finding her balance there as she cants into the warrior again and again in staccato when She-ra’s legs come up to wrap around her. She is glad they are facing one another now; she can see Adora’s eyes trying and failing to stay focused. 

“Come on Adora, stay with me,” Catra pants, though Adora does not hesitate, pulling Catra into her embrace, nails scratching over Catra’s back as her climax hits her roughly and suddenly. Even in the strong arms of She-ra, the Horde Lord refuses to stop her hips, easing her on and through her high, drunk on the sight of She-ra as nothing but a simple woman she had buckled under her charms. _Her Adora._

When her arms let go and Adora is laying there uselessly, Catra tries to lift herself off, still hip deep. She is barely laying eyes on Adora when a large hand runs through her hair, pushing back the brown mess of locks out of her face, before lowering it to run a thumb over her jaw, feeling where the gray tufts had been removed so many years ago, “Catra? Is this real.”  
“No. Not fully, but I don’t care.” She retorts quick, reaching for the blonde hair pressed on Adora’s forehead, “Adora, I think I ---”

  
  


***

One minute she is tucking a golden lock behind Adora’s ear, and the next she stumbles onto her feet, peering over the edge of the cliff. She yowls , and her claws dig in as she steps back, disoriented and lost. Her heart kicks, feverishly looking around the new environment she found herself in. The moons suddenly confirm her location -- this was Etheria. It was lush, green, teeming with life, the kind of life she had never seen. Her eyes catch a glistening particle. Catra reaches up, catching it in her palm, recognizing it as the same magic that floated in Krystis, where she found Melog. Like before, it all feels inherently incorrect, like the haze after a nightmare. 

“You love her,” The stranger’s voice makes Catra look back hissing out of habit.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” A tall woman is approaching her with a radiant smile -- _She-ra._ “You must be Catra.”

“Do I know you?” The cat snarls with a twitch of her lip. The woman laughs and raises her hands in surrender, a peace sign that matches her smile.

“No, you don’t. But I know you, Adora has a lot of thoughts about you, but I never thought she would give you the Sword of Protection,” She gestures to the sword, now at Catra’s hip, “And that you would actually try to come here.”

“Who are you -- And if you say you are She-ra I will claw your face off.” 

She laughs again, which makes Catra’s ears droop. She reminds her of Adora. Same naive energy, same soft heart. “Mara. Your name is Mara”

“I guess Light Hope has told you about me, and so has Adora.”

“Something like that.” She replies shortly, “This is Etheria. If the others were Adora’s and my memories…”

Catra looks once more unto the planet, lively, undisturbed, pure, “This is… your Etheria.”

“Yes,” she sighs, joining Catra at the edge of the cliff, “The planet I tried to save. It was -- no, is,- beautiful. My people tried to destroy, harvest it, and Prime does the same.” She turns to Catra, seeing the feline’s eyes scanning the forest, “If you can’t stop him, all of it will be gone.”

“You died saving this planet.” Catra says, still looking out, avoiding Mara’s gaze.

“Maybe the planet died saving me, it's hard to tell with these things,” She shrugs so casually and naturally, “The first ones were going to kill me one way or the other. I thought dying for this planet was the right choice. I still do.”

They stand for a second, and Mara can feel the tension in Catra’s mind, the racing thoughts, like she was trying to find a way out of a trap. The somersaults in her head, trying to find a solution for a problem whose answer was a resounding _error,_ “You never cared about power, did you? Why be so bent on it when it was not your want. “

“I wanted power, duh. Why else kill Hordak and take his role.”

“I don’t know, but Adora never thought you looked happy in it. In that cape nor in power, truly.”

_And I wasn’t. I was only ever happy in her jacket._

“I can see why Adora likes you. You are a menace to the world, but you are horrible at trying to be evil!” Mara laughs, making the cat blush and finally stare at her, “Maybe the world needs someone like you. If you save Etheria, which I know you will, your reasons won’t matter. If it's for Adora or for the morality of it, that doesn’t matter.”

Mara turns to take Catra’s hands, “You are more than your mistakes, Catra.”

The cat feels a stab through her heart, and she holds Mara’s hands back. Her eyes sink into their joined hands, seeing the gentle warmth of the magic gathered there. It spreads through their arms, and she feels the tingle of it onto the feline ears that perk, “Uuuh...what the fuck?”

“Oh would you look at that! I think it is time for you to wake up, Catra,” Mara smiles at her warmly, “You can do this.”

***

Catra wakes up panting and staggering to her feet only to fail. As she lands on all fours and fumbles to grab the sword. In her daze, she raised her eyes to the failsafe, “She-ra was always meant to be a weapon. Wasn’t she? How many --- how many did you kill. For a fucking piece of rock. You used them. All these women were trying to do what was right.”

“Sacrificial sheep? That’s a role below Adora. Adora can save the world. I can’t, but all I have to do is save Adora. And that?” She uses the sword to stand, laughing, “I will burn down anything for.”

“You want a sacrifice?” Catra snarls, taking a running start to the Failsafe, “Then take it!”

It was certainly painful. She is surprised she doesn’t die right away, must have been the years of training to withstand princess magic, a resistance that Shadow Weaver initiated her in so well and so early. Though she isn’t thankful for any of itl, it hurts and burns and sears. It lasts an eternity before the energy fizzles out and she collapses, deciding to lay down on the cool crystal platform for a few minutes. The floor was coo, and it did wonders for what she assumed was her singed fur.

After a short decade, Catra starts to get up, slowly pushing her upper body to sit on the floor. Her ears are pivoting still ringing deaf from the roaring magic that had ripped through her. In the motion she catches a glimpse of her hands-- Much larger than she remembered. Peering into the crystal platform her reflection was changed. She screams and falls back off the platform with a soft flash as she returns to herself. 

***

Glimmer was running into the chamber, dirty from whatever had been going on outside of the refuge, “Catra! We have a huuuuuuuge problem!!”

The queen slides to a stop, watching the massive feline pick up her sword and straighten out, rolling her shoulder. Catra had never been intimidating, always small and built for speed over anything. As She-ra though, it was obvious she was given more muscle than she had previously. She is about seven feet tall, her brown hair glistened as if the light glowed with a hint of gold. Both of her eyes are blue, but inherently feline still. The gray of her tufts, those old discolored patches, were back, longer, framing a glyph glistening over her heart like a medal, “Catra?”

“Sparkles. I got the Failsafe. We need to get to the crystal castle,” Catra says, approaching her with conviction to her step, a hand over the failsafe, “The longer we wait, the bigger lead we give Prime.”

Glimmer shakes her head, “That’s what I am saying, they are already here! Adora is leveling Elberon!”

“What, Adora?”

“Well She-ra-!”

Catra looks to the sword. It was impossible. She had the sword, she was She-ra, in a second her brain had drafted a plan, “I need to bring her to the heart! If she follows me maybe we can destroy the Heart and free her with it the same blast.”

“Oh yeah, totally, and we politely ask her to come with us? Maybe she will like some tea?!” Glimmer throws her hands up, “People are dying, Catra!”

“You can teleport us can’t you?!”

“Yeah!! Maybe? If I can grab you both--”

“You leave that to me. When you grab us, put us in the Crystal Castle, I will take it from there. Hold the line and I will do what I can.”

***

Elberon was on literal fire. The town was ablaze in its destruction, which is why Catra expected the whole force, not just She-ra. When they get there, Catra is already running towards the epicenter, without a moment to waste. She needs to bait Adora into an isolated place where Glimmer can get close enough.

The sword swipes were enough to cut through anything and anyone, and it was painful to watch. In the town square, the place was a mess with the remains of the previous fights. Catra raises her hand and snaps her fingers.

She-ra stops, turning her attention to the magicat. The green orbs, glowing and cold as they were, seemed to fill with some emotion she can’t discern from a distance. Catra smirks, her tail weaving in the air, _“Hey, Adora_.”

“Catra.”

“You miss your sword? I think that replacement looks a little tacky on you,” She cackles as She-ra growls. She can spot the Horde Prime Symbol embellished into the front of the warrior’s uniform, armored sides that wrap around her abdomen. Seeing She-ra’s uniform tainted with gray, dressed to play the part of a warmonger hurt more than she could have imagined , “You want your sword?”

“Come get it, Like a good girl!” Catra roars at Adora who echoes her roar right back. She wheels around and makes a run for it, Adora chasing her down without hesitation. It was like when they were young, except terrifying and more death threatening. She takes a turn, in time to avoid a swing of the sword. It cracks the stained cement, enough to give Catra a foothold to pounce off as Adora makes a grab at the tail only to miss.

“Running away again? Always a coward!” Adora calls out, growling as she watches the cat duck into an alleyway, “You can’t face anyone or anything, can you?!”

“Always a talker!”

Catra stands in the Alley, tail flicking as she raises her sword, She-ra’s green eyes dig into hers, approaching her with heavy footsteps, “Always a manipulating shit.” She gives a battle cry and jumps forward with an overhead swipe.

The magic cat raises her sword, barely stopping the swipe with her own sword, almost crumbling under the sheer force, “Adora. I know you are in there. Hang tight. I will get you out.”

Adora is pressing downward, hard, making her knees nearly buckle, but the ground gives first. Glimmer lands on them teleporting them to the Crystal Castle.

As they teleport ,Catra tumbles to the side, heaving from the teleportation, unable to stop her stomach from acting up. Adora who was more used to it is already getting up, taking the chance to run with a swing at Glimmer who disappeared in the nick of time with a loud yelp. The distraction of missing and embedding the sword into a tree gives the new magicat a chance to push up to her feet and start her dash to the entrance.

“Eternia!” As the entrance opens, she slides into the tight opening, getting a head start while Adora has to wait for it to open fully. It gets her a few meters ahead, Adora frustrated as she finally gets to continue the chase. 

“You! Do nothing but run! Be reckless! You could have been with me!” She is calling out, faster and more accustomed to She-ra’s power. Catra is under or overestimating herself – missing her jumps or pushes off walls to try and clear the debris, at times running through it without knowing she was capable of it. At times her jumps caught on a piece of stone, making her trip forward, truly unsure of how her body dimensions worked as She-ra. The real She-ra, chipped and all, was easily plowing through the mess of the crumbling First One’s past, “You need to stop running. Face me! Face your mistakes!”

She digs her heel in, looking between the forked paths, panting as her eyes try to choose which of the two ways to go. Her ear pivots and she throws herself to the side, back hitting the hall. She-ra’s sword cracks the crystals, before she swings at Catra’s neck, only missing because she ducks and goes for Adora’s hips, pushing her into the opposite wall, the chip sparking in complaint as her head bounces off the wall. “I never! Ran!”

“You ran from me. From me. I wanted you. You left me.” Adora lowers her head, her blue eyes staring down at the fluff of brown hair. Catra was using her whole body to press the warrior into the opposite wall. It’s a fairly firm pin, but she can feel Catra shaking with something. Her hand weaves into the mane, “Why? Why did you never look at me and say the things you wanted?”

“You wouldn’t listen to me.” Catra tries to keep her eyes down, nails dug into the white of Horde’s uniform. Adora’s hand yanks her head back, the pain making her hiss and bare her fangs.

“Can’t even look at me. Not even now.”

Catra slaps her hard, enough to pry them apart, forcing herself to lean into the opposite wall. Adora pushes her hair back, taking the sword in both her hands, “Oh, Catra. You are fighting for nothing. Horde Prime sees all. Horde Prime knows a—”

“He is a jackass and so are you!” She growls, turning to run down the hall again, “And he doesn’t know me!”

She turns further down, meeting Adora’s swing, the force letting out sparks of magic, “You are destined for destruction! Like all feeble creatures!”

She-ra strikes down, but the cat flips back onto a hand and forces space between them. Her tail is weaving nervously, and as Adora continues to follow Catra, who is pedaling back, slowly, inch by dangerous inch approaching the end of the hallway. “What makes you think you could do anything right?!”

“Because I am doing this for you, you idiot!” Catra tries to turn to run but Adora grabs her by the tail and pulls her into herself. She wraps a hand around Catra’s neck, just below the jaw where she traces her thumb. Even with both of them in some form of She-ra, Catra was smaller, pressed at chest level. She isn’t sure if she can hear Adora’s heart thumping and bucking or her own. It’s hard to hear over her hissing and squirming.

“You broke my heart, Catra. I should have known you were trouble, always a rebel, but it’s okay.” She nuzzles into Catra’s neck, humming into the gray tufts, the sword hard wrapped around the feline’s boy. She holds her tight, like she is hers to keep, “Prime fixed that. I am finally happy. And once you are gone… it’ll be even calmer.” She turns Catra’s face upwards, towards the Heart of Etheria. In her rush, Catra had failed to see the Heart’s beat hasten, the green ooze out of it like some sort of sickness. Adora’s breath is against her air, thick like a fog that was covering her every sense.

“You failed, Catra, like you always have.”

“This? It was meant to be mine. I worked so hard for years,” Tears come to her eyes and she stomps on Adora’s foot, breaking free for a second before Adora grabs her wrist, turns her around, and grabs the front of her shirt. Her eyes fall on the glyph as she pulls the feline up. Catra’s feet are off the ground, and all she can do is drop her head back as She-ra’s voice echoes at the end of a long hallway, “You took my destiny.”

Her fading vision nails itself up at the Heart of Etheria above them, seemingly going into some form of cardiac arrest. She feels like her own chest is about to burst, the glyph glowing brighter before the green takes over, the connection between both entities undeniable. It's inside of her and of the Heart, one same rhythm. The failsafe, her resentment, the heart, the power to make the decision, the wasted years, the singed pride and ego, her love and her hatred, all of it. As Prime’s virus starts to rip through her and the Heart. Everything was connected, in a moment of clarity. 

  
  


“Adora.”

She-ra was raising her sword, Catra’s eyes are on the Heart, noticing their feverish synchronization, “It’s okay, these things – they happen in war. You are more than anything you ever did or will do, worth more than a sword or a destiny. I am sorry I failed you and let you down so many times.”

Her hand slackens, she drops the Sword of Protection, the clattering soundless over the racing beat of the hearts. Regardless her death would release the magic. That’s what mattered, even as they stood under this beautiful cataclysm that was coursing through the Heart and herself. For the first time, she cries. Not of sadness, but of joy. _Why did you never look at me and say the things you wanted?_

She forces her face down wearing a sad smile, knowing full well she has not failed. She-ra was astounding, but she was torn that she could not see Adora, _her Adora_ one more time. The sword is poised, she can see the restraint in her muscle, the sheer will of Adora trying to hold the sword away from her. Yet Catra brings her eyes to Adora, looking for eye contact one last time, and raises her hand to cup her cheek before saying, “Don’t you get it? I love you, I always have. So just this once, do what is right for _you._ ”

“Do it, Adora, save Etheria.”

She-ra lets out a deafening scream. The magic stops its flow, the Heart begins to numb and go silent, as does Catra.

The silence of the storm. The eye of it all, a small moment through the green haze. She thinks she sees Adora, in what could have been them in a perfect future, together. The failsafe crumbles in a dazzling blast, and she keeps her soft smile, as her hand goes limp. 

***

“Catra!” Adora was on her knees, cradling the small form of her childhood friend in her arms, hands woven into the back of her head, refusing to let go. She bows her forehead into Catra’s, crying, rocking back and forth helplessly, as the Heart seems to halt, “Please, don’t go. I love you too, Catra, I always have, please. No, no, no no-!”

The Heart begins to collapse, all Adora does is transform into She-ra, and pull Catra under her body to shield her from the falling stones that pellet them. “Catra -- Please, stay. I need you, more than anything in my life--” She tries to heal the gash, the one she had torn into Catra’s heart. She can’t focus, she has forgotten about Brightmoon, about Etheria, about the immense universe, because she holds her bleeding love, the fleeting hope of her home. A piece of the chamber hits hard and she pushes it aside, refusing to let it touch Catra. Forming her shield and holding it over them, one arm braces while the other cradles Catra, “Please, Catra. You have never surrendered, don’t start now. We said it’d be us at the edge of the world, but not now. Not today!”

A glow swells from Adora, a glistening glyph forming as she curls over Catra in her distress. Her strength is waning. She gives in. _It's over._ She finds herself dropping her arm and her shield, as she leans in to give the cat a kiss. One last kiss, through the end of the world, her world. 

It spreads through them, the embers of dying magic turned into a new blaze, powerful enough to allow the return of a steady drum. It consumes everything in its wake, the thumping growing louder, stronger, as both of them are taken over by the Heart. 

When Adora opens her eyes, Catra’s two blue orbs are on her. She breathes out a single gasp of air, relieved, horror melting away as her Catra smiles a bit, tilting her head into the blonde’s chest, a gesture that bends a feline ear in its closeness. Slowly she croaks, “Hey, Adora.”  
  


Adora laughs through her tears, bringing her up into a desperate embrace, one that Catra hesitantly returns, groaning in soreness, “Say something….”

“Wow….”

“Nevermind, don’t ruin it.”

The blonde laughs once more, bumping her forehead into Catra’s. For a second, the war and the danger melts away. The two glyphs adorning their chests beat in unison, “You did it, you saved Etheria.”

“We aren’t done yet.” 

***

When the two magical warriors step out from the Castles, Catra’s attention is on finding Prime, while Adora takes care of the more immediate threats in the sky and ground, blasting the planet with newlife. 

She goes straight for the Horde clone in charge, and kicks him down when he is busy looking at the fireworks. She drops her sword, grabs him by the neck , claws dug in, “Remember what I said?” She picks him up, clear off the ground, “I told you I’d be the one to kill you.”

“You don’t have the guts. You are weak, as you always have been, and no petty magic can cover that.” He doesn’t kick, cackling in the face of defeat.

She snarls, baring her large incisors, only enhanced by the Sword of Protection’s magic.

“Catra wait!” Adora runs up to her, watching the magicat holding the alien up like a ragdoll. She stops a respectful distance away, not wanting to rile Catra further and holds her hands out, “You do not have to do this. This is not how we do things.”  
  
Catra looks away from Horde Prime and at Adora. There’s a glint of malice, of resentfulness that melts after a second, “We?”

“Leave him to me, he will not hurt anyone else,” Adora reasons with her, “I promise.”

She looks back at Prime, for a second thinking she could get her fill of bloodshed, get her payback for every single moment of suffering he brought Adora. 

But she listens.

She drops Prime and walks away, letting Adora do whatever she had planned, and taking her spot on the sidelines while everyone celebrates their victory. By the time it's done, Catra has ducked into the canopy to find a quiet place.

Moving the foliage, a kaleidoscope of emotions wash over her when she finds herself stepping onto a cliff. Her claws dig into the edge as she peers down and then back up, taking a step away from the edge. Her memory jogs, and she turns in a sudden surge of worry, hoping to see a familiar visage greeting her. When she notices she is alone, she has to look away to not let her feelings get the best of her, bringing her eyes to a familiar sunset, the moons dot the horizon, the stars light the frame, and her heart, for the first time, feels peace.

Catra stands there watching the blossoming wildlife, her tail low to the ground, ears drawn back. The swaying leaves, the travelling wind and the distinct hope of a new life soothes the last ashes of her fury. Her eyes follow a sparkle of newly freed magic. She brings a palm up, letting the soft twinkle rest there for a few seconds before setting it to her lips and blowing the small ember away, onto a new world brimming with light, “...You are welcome, Mara.”

“Catra!” 

Her ear pivots and she swivels, catching She-ra as the princess jumps into her arms. The twirl in the new meadow, before Catra sets her down, huffing, “You are still heavy, you idiot.”

“What? Aren’t you strong enough to carry me, _She-ra?”_ Adora giggles, pressed closed, cupping her face as Catra rests her hands on her hips.

“ _I am not She-ra. You are.”_

They close their eyes, letting the others cheer amongst themselves while they rest in their small corner of heaven, “ _It's over, isn’t it? That past it’s really all gone.”_

“Good Riddance.”

“Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finito! Well, maybe. There may be an Epilogue :D
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful beta reader Luthor (who also writes fics, please visit them!) for sticking with me through this little project. I leave you all with the prospect of Adora post Chip and the Playlist I use for Catradora related writings-- specifically this Fic.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7dgFP9a1Hhfm9slrdHECK9?si=3Qor7NgGRY2hngpfYBakTA

**Author's Note:**

> Its been a while! As always check me out in twitter @Aura_stormgirl
> 
> Happy pride, and remember, Black Lives Matter!


End file.
